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THE 

DAUGHTER 

OF A 

REPUBLICAN 


BY 

BEKNXE BAJBCX)CK 


CHICAGO: 

THE NEW VOICE PRESS 
1903 



Copyright 

1899 



^ The world at large gives small attention 

to human effort until it has reached the full 
Stature of a robust^maturity. 

^ By way of ienoouragement, it is well for 

many obscure toilers that there are tiiose who 
think they see a bt^d of promise in the yet 
undeveloped effort. 

Because of the loving interest she has 
always taken in my every first attempt/’ I 
dedicate this little volume to 


MY MOTHER. 






*Pm cold , ' whiacd the btny . " 


XLbe Daudbtet of a 'Republican. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE OEOWLEY FAMILY. 

Let me introduce the reader to the Crowley family, 
and when you have become acquainted with them bear 
well in mind that in this broad land of ours there are 
thousands upon thousands of families in a condition 
as deplorable, and some whose mercury line of de- 
bauchery has dropped to a point of miserable exist- 
ence as yet unsounded by this family. 

The Crowleys are all in tonight, except the father, 
and he is momentarily expected. 

It is a bitter night in February. The ground is 
covered with ice and sleet causing many a fall to the 
unwary pedestrian. 

The wind comes in cutting blasts directly from the 
north, rattling and twisting everything in its way not 
securely fastened, then dying away in a long weary 
moan, abandoning its effort only to seize upon the ele- 
ments with a firmer grasp and come battling back with 
fresh vindictiveness and force. 


6 


THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAISr. 


There were those who did not mind this storm, peo- 
ple around whose homes all was secure and whom no 
rattling annoyed, people who enjoyed bright lights 
and warm fires, but these were not the Crowleys. 
The Crowley’s home consisted of two rooms in a rick- 
ety old tenement house around which everything rat- 
tled and flapped as the wind raged. Their light came 
from a dingy little lamp on a goods box. Every now 
and then a more violent gust of wind struck the house 
with such force that the strujsture trembled and the 
feeble light flickered dangerously. 

Here and there broken windows were stopped up 
with rags and papers and through the insecure crevices 
the wind found its way with a raspipg, tiresome 
groan. 

What little fire there was, burned in a small rusty 
stove. Its door stood open, perhaps to keep the low 
fire burning longer, perhaps to let the warmth out 
sooner, and against the pale red glow four small hands 
were visible, spread to catch the feeble heat. 

On a bed in one corner, gaunt, and with wasted 
form, a woman lay. 

This was the mother. 

A girl of perhaps fifteen sat close to the stove and 
held a tiny baby wrapped in a gingham apron. 

A spell seemed to have fallen on the usually noisy 
group. Even Cora, the family merrymaker, was 
quiet, until aroused from her reverie by an act of her 
brother who replenished the fire. 

She spoke rather severely. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


7 


Johnnie, how many pieces of coal are there left 
in the box 

Five-r-and little ones.’’ 

Then get to work quick! Take out one of the 
pieces that you have just put in. We are not rich 
enough to burn three pieces at once.” 

I’m cold,” whined the boy. 

So am I, awful cold, but you know that coal must 
do till pa comes.” 

I’d like to know when that will be. . Any other 
pa would be home such a freezing night as this. I 
hate my pa.” 

Johnnie, Johnnie, you must not talk that way. 
He is your father, child.” 

The voice came from the bed and was marked by 
that peculiar tone noticeable when persons extremely 
cold try to speak without chattering. 

I can’t help it, mother. I’m cold, so cold, and I’m 
hungry, too. I only had half a potato, and Maggie 
says they’re all gone.” 

Poor child !” said the mother with a sigh. Here, 
Maggie, give him this,” and she drew from under the 
pillow a small potato which she held toward the girl. 

But the girl did not stir until the hungry boy made 
a move in the direction of the bed. This movement 
aroused her as his overdose of coal had roused his 
other watchful sister a moment previous. 

No ! No ! Johnnie. Do not take it. Our mother 
will starve. She has not eaten anything for two 
days.” 


g THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 

*^Tiet him have it, Maggie. I cannot eat it. Per- 
haps your father will come soon and bring some tea. 
I think a good cup of tea would make me better.^^ 

^^And, mother,^^ said Cora, ^Ve will take the money 
we were going to spend for shoes and get a bit of 
flannel for you and the baby. You must have it or 
you will freeze. Surely father will come soon. He 
said he would.^^ 

^T^early everyone has gone home now. Hardly a 
person passes, Cora observed, with her nose pressed 
against the frosty pane. 

^^That is because it is so cold. It is not late yet. 
We will wait a little longer, and then Maggie — 

^^0, mother! Do not ask me to go. It is so cold, 
and suppose — suppose I had to go into a saloon again. 
It nearly kills me to go about such places.^' 

^TTou might meet him, Maggie, and keep him from 
going in.^^ 

^^f my pa don^t come tonight, he^s a big liar, that’s 
all I” broke in J ohnnie, hotly. 

His mother did not answer him. She was watching 
the face bent low over the tiny baby. She noted the 
careworn look and the nervous pressure of the hand 
held over the tiny one to keep it warm. 

Presently the girl lifted her eyes to her mother. 
Those tender pleading eyes of the mother would have 
melted a harder heart than hers. She went to the bed 
and put the baby in, close to its mother’s side. Then 
she threw her arms around the haggard woman’s neck 
and kissed her passionately. 


THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 


9 


^T)ear mother/^ she said, would do anything for 
you. I will go for father, and before it gets any 
later.^^ 

^^Pray, child ! Pray every breath you draw I 

Pray every step you take that you may find him be- 
fore it is too late. If you do not — I cannot imagine 
what is to become of us. Pray! God is not cruel. 
Surely he will hear us in our misery 

Would you see the drunkard^s daughter dressed for 
a walk this bitter night? A frail, slender girl, who 
should have been warmly clad, she is dressed in thin- 
nest, shabby cotton, through which the elements will 
play as through rags of gauze, while the flesh of her 
feet, unprotected by her almost soleless shoes, will 
press against the sleet. The two faded pink roses that 
flap forlornly on the side of her coarse straw hat bear 
a silent suggestion of pathos — a faint remembrance, 
perhaps, of the days of departed happiness. 

While she is adjusting the remnant of a shawl so 
as to cover as much of her shoulders as possible, the 
children are giving her numerous messages to be given 
their father when she finds him. At last she is ready. 
After hesitating a moment she kisses them all and with 
a shudder steps out into the howling swirling blast. 

She walked briskly, halting a second every time she 
met a man to see if he were the object of her search 
and passing each time with a growing fear, as each 
time she was disappointed. 


10 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


At last she came to the door of the saloon where her 
father had so often worse than wasted the money hk- 
family were perishing for at home. 

She stopped. 

She knew it was warm and light inside. Perhaps 
her father had just stepped inside to get warm. Should 
she look ? 

While she stood shivering in the wind, getting her 
courage up to the point of entering, a man passed her 
and went in. As he went through the door a familiar 
voice greeted her ear, a voice she well knew and had 
learned to fear. 

She did not hesitate longer. Opening the door she 
walked swiftly and noiselessly in. For a moment the 
air seemed to stagger her, so laden was it with the 
fumes of liquor and tobacco. There was a crowd 
around the bar and the bartender was busy mixing 
drinks and jingling glasses. 

She saw her father. He was about two-thirds 
drunk and she knew, poor child, that she had found 
him at his worst. Her courage almost failed her, and 
she took an involuntary step toward the door. Her 
father’s voice arrested her. 

Here it goes, and it’s my last. Now, who can say 
Dam Crow has not done the square thing?” And 
with the words he flung a silver dollar on the bar. 
His last had joined his first. All had gone into the 
same coffer while an innocent wife and helpless chil- 
dren were starving and freezing at home. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 11 . 

A pair of hungry, pleading blue eyes came like a 
vision to Maggie. Before the ring of the silver had. 
died away, she sprang forward like a tiger and seized . 
the dollar. 

“ Thief ! thief cried a chorus of vpices and tw^;* 
or three seized her. 

By the Lord, iTs Mag ! my Mag ! Give that 
money where it belongs, and tell what brings you 
here, you huzzy,’’ and Damon Crowley seized his 
daughter by tho shoulder and shook her savagely. 

I will give it where it belongs, and that will be to 
mother. I came here for you, father. Mother is 
sick and cold and nearly starved. The children are 
all crying for something to eat and the coal is gone ; 
and this is the last ?” 

She opened her hand and looked at the dollar. 
Damon Crowley reached for it, but quick as a flash 
she closed her fingers over it and thrust her hand be- 
hind her. 

' Never,” she said firmly. This is the last. It 
shall be ours to buy mother some tea and the children 
some bread.” 

Give me that money, you devilish brat !” and 
stepping forward he struck her a blow in the face. 

She staggered. 

Some of the bystanders laughed. Some called her 
a plucky girl, and one, more nearly drunk than the 
rest, thinking that he was in a dog pit no doubt, called 
lustily, ^^Sic ’em ! Sic ’em !” 


12 


THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 


Maggie cast an appealing glance around the room. 
All of the men had been drinking. Some were nearly 
intoxicated. The bartender was sober^. but it was his 
dollar that was involved; he could not interfere. 

Poor Maggie! She stood her ground bravely. It 
was the last; she could not let it go. The enraged 
man gave vent to his passion in a volley of oaths. 

^'Give me that dollar^ or Pll bust your head. 

I wonH stand such treatment, you fool!^^ and 

suiting the action to the words, he drew from under 
ihe stove a heavy poker and started toward her. 

Someone caught his upraised arm., 

^^Let her go, Dam Crow. Let her have her dollar. 
You^ve done the square thing. Not a stingy bone in 
your body.^^ 

A laugh followed this speech, in which Damon 
Crowley joined, and w^hich seemed to put him in bet- 
ter humor. He threw the poker down heavily and 
taking the frightened girl rudely by the arm pushed 
her toward the door. 

^‘^Tell the sick lady her husband wants her to have 
tea, nice warm tea, plenty of tea, and this is your 
share,^^ and opening the door he pushed her into the 
passageway and gave her a violent kick. 

The crowd inside laughed loudly and then went on 
with their drinking and swearing as if nothing had 
happened. Such visits as the visit of Maggie were 
of too frequent occurrence to cause any prolonged rip- 
ple of excitement. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


IS 


Poor Maggie! She lay groaning on the cold, slip- 
pery ground, just outside this licensed, money-making 
pet of Uncle Sam^s. 

She was half crazed with pain and growing numb 
when two young gentlemen came along. One stooped 
and picked up something lying in the street. 

^^Gad! Fve good luck/^ and he held up the dollar. 

‘^Tlease, mister! iPs mine. Give it to me quick. 
IPs all thaPs left.^^ 

'^And what did you do with the others? Come 
now, youVe had a little too much of the stuff inside, 
but youM better move on or you^l freeze.^^ 

^TiePs call a policeman.^^ 

^^Too cold to stop. The)^^l find her; and if she 
freezes, well enough. Her kind are of no use to the 
world.^" 

Then the speaker dropped the dollar in his pocket, 
and taking his companion's arm hastened away. 

^^0 God! 0 God.!^^ groaned Maggie. But her 
cry was lost on the moaning wind. 

Presently a man wrapped in a fur-trimmed coat 
turned the comer and almost ran over the prostrate 
form. He halted suddenly and spoke to her. No 
answer. 

He shook her. Only a faint groan. 

Then he stepped to the saloon, and after a sharp, 
decided knock by way of announcement, entered. 

^^Does the girl lying outside belong to anyone here ? 
She is nearly frozen.^^ 

A couple of men stepped to the door and peered out. 


14 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


It’s Dam Crow’s girl. She was in here a huntin’ 
him.” 

Where is her father ?” 

That’s him/’ pointing to a man lying on a bench 
behind the stove. 

Guess he’s asleep/’ said the man, smiling broadly. 

Wake him, and hurry about it,” said the gentle- 
man. 

But Damon Crowley was not in a sleep that could 
be easily broken. Like a beast he lay. The spittle 
oozed from his mouth and spread over his dirty beard 
in true drunkard fashion. When told that his daugh- 
ter was just outside freezing, he could only grunt. 

Where is his home ?” 

Small use to take her there,” one man observed, 
recounting part of the interview that had taken place 
a short time before. But no one knew where he lived. 
The muffled man left the saloon abruptly, evidently 
much disgusted. 

Stepping into the street he called a cab just 
passing. After having had the half-dead girl placed 
in the vehicle, the gentleman followed, slamming the 
door. 

Then he took off his great coat and threw it over her 
tattered garments. 

Judge Thorn was a tender-hearted man. 


THE DAUGPITER OF A KEPUBLICAN. 15 


CHAPTERII. 

THE THORNS AT HOME. 

The Thorn homestead, like the family whose name 
it bore, was magnificent and substantial in an unas- 
suming way. Its gray gables seemed to look with a 
frown on the gingerbread style of architecture that 
had giwvn up around it. Under the trees on its lawn, 
three generations of Thorns had grown to man’s es- 
tate, and every one of them had become a lawyer. 

It had been the hope of the present occupant that 
when he left the estate he might leave it in the hands 
of a son, but this was not to be. 

After a short married life his wife died, leaving 
him childless. 

Some years later he married^ a second time. When 
his first child was born and he was told it was a 
daughter, he was disappointed. When the second 
child came and was also a girl, his disappointment 
verged on resentment. Through the hours of anxious 
waiting that preceded the arrival of the third child, 
he walked the fioor in a state of mind alternating be- 
tween hope and fear, and when at last the suspense 
was over and he looked upon the tiny features of a 
son, his joy knew no bounds. 


THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 

He hurried out to break the news to the two little 
sisters whom he imagined would be as pleased as he 
was. He found them in the yard, Vivan swinging 
with her doll and Jean digging a hole in a pile of 
sand. When the important announcement was made, 
the black-haired Vivian clapped her hands for ipy, 
hut the other little girl kept right on digging, jus^s 
if she had not heard. When she had passed the criti- 
cal point in the process of excavating she paused and 
looked up. 

The expression in her father^s face was something 
new to her, and she studied him in silence a moment, 
then said, solemnly: 

^^Are boys any .better than girls, father ?” 

^^Better? Why no, they are no better. They are 
boys, that is all.^^ 

^^Well, theh!^^ and the tone of her voice, no less 
than the words, conveyed the meaning that the matter 
was settled, and she returned to her digging as if 
nothing had happened. But she did not forget the 
incident, and when, shortly after, the tiny baby boy 
in the cold amis of his mother had been put to rest 
beneath a mound, and the light had gone out of the 
father^s face and the elasticity out of his step, little 
Jean pondered and her heart went out strangely to 
her father in his bitter trouble. She followed him 
softly about and studied him. 

One evening, some time after the little son had 
come and gone, Jean appeared before her father in 
the library to make^ an important announcement# 


^he daughter of a republican. 


17 

been thinking the matter over, father/^ she^ 
said, ^^and Fve made np my mind I will be your boy. 
You want a boy, and you know yourself youll never 
be able to make one of Vivian, with her wee little 
mouth and her long braids. ITow my hair is just 
right and I can throw a stone exactly over the middle 
of the barn and kick a ball farther than any boy on 
the block. I shall kick more hereafter, for don^t you 
think a boy^s legs ought to be cidtivated 
Judge Thorn smiled and assured her that she was 
correct in her idea of muscular development. 

^^Are boys as good as girls, father 
^TBoys as good as girls ? Why, certainly 
^^Well, you said once that girls were as good a?^ 
boys, and if boys are as good as girls theyYe as good 
as each other, aren^t they?^^ 

Judge Thorn could not keep back the laugh this 
time. 

believe that is the logical conclusion,^^ he said. 
^Then tell me truly, father, if I^m going to be your 
boy, are you going to be as glad as you were that 
morning you bothered me when I was digging my 
welir 

Judge Thom hesitated a moment, but the clear 
gray eyes were upon him, and he felt the justice of 
their plea. 

^^Yes, dear, I think so.^^ 

^^And may I do just as you do when I get big — 
read books and make speeches 


18 


the daughtee .of a eefuejligah. 


Now Judge Thom was not an advocate of the ad- 
vanced sphere of women and was not sure he wanted 
his daughter to be a lawyer, but after a short reflec- 
tion, perhaps thinking the request but the passing 
fancy of a child, he gave his assent. 

Thank you, father,” she responded*^ gravely. ‘T 
think you are a very good man.” Then she kissed 
him and left the room. 

He sat, still smiling, when her voice close to his 
side startled him with the announcement : 

I think, father, if you do not care, I will not go 
into pants. I might not feel at home, you know.” 
From the time that the little Jean had announced 
herself as her fathers boy, he took more interest in 
her; and as the child developed, he saw unfolding 
the traits and abilities he had hoped to nurture in a 
son. Intuitively she seemed to understand his moods 
and fancies, and as her understanding developed, the 
books were a source of delight to her, and many times 
she discussed knotty problems with her father in a 
way that pleased him mightily. 

So, as the years went by, she slipped into the place 
the father had reserved for the son, and he loved her 
with a peculiarly tender love and was never prouder 
of her than when he heard her say, in explanation of 
her notions and her plans, am my father’s boy.” 
On the particular night when Maggie Crowley was 
wandering about in the storm, two young women oo* 
•cupied a handsome room in the Thorn home. A 
cheerful wood fire burned on the hearth and the clear 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLIC AI^. 


19 


rays from an overhanging light cast brightness over 
the rows of books that lined the walls. 

These were two people who minded not the winter 
weather. The cold wind blowing through the gables 
and leafless trees held no terror for them. Perhaps 
they rather liked to hear it as by way of comparison 
it made their lot seem more comfortable. 

The tall slender woman with black hair was ex- 
amining alternately a fashion book and a bunch of 
samples. She was Vivian, a pronounced society 
lady. 

The other sat in a low chair, by a small study table, 
reading, only looking up now and then to answer 
some question put to her by her sister. This was 

my father’s boy.” 

The solemn little Jean was gone, in her place was 
this altogether charming young person, whose shapely 
head was crowned with coils and coils of red brown 
hair held in place by numerous quaintly carved silver 
hairpins. If it had not been for the clear gray eyes 
and the quaint fashion she still had of dropping her 
head on one side when solving some momentous prob- 
lem, the little J ean might have been a dream. 

Presently the door opened and Judge Thorn en- 
tered. 

Nice evening, girls !” 

/^Delightful!” 

Blackstone, Jean ?” 

The young lady looked at the book quizzically a 
moment and then laughed. 


20 


THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 


^^United States history, father. Last week I re- 
viewed Caesar. Now I am on this, and if I do my 
best I think I may reasonably hope to be in the Third 
Eeader by next week.^^ 

The judge laughed. 

have been reading our constitution and looking 
over the record of The late unpleasantness/ said 
Jean. ^Tt is very interesting to me. Do you 
know, father, I love every woman who gave a hus- 
band or a son to her country, and I almost hold in 
reverence the memory of the men who shed their 
blood to effect the abolition of human slavery in 
America.^^ 

The tall form of the Judge straightened and his 
eye brightened, like a soldier^s when he hears the 
names of his old battle-fields. 

^^Do not forget, he said, ^That there were those 
who acted as brave a part who never faced a cannon. 
It is easy to be borne by the force of a great wave ; but 
those who by their time and talents put the wave of 
public opinion in motion are the real heroes. 

can remember the time when a man who 
preached or taught Abolition was looked upon as nar- 
row-minded, fanatical, bigoted and even criminal. 
When the name was a stench in the nostrils of the 
people even in liberty-loving Boston. When men 
were rotten-egged, beaten, and in some instances 
killed because they dared to follow the dictates of 
their own consciences and make sentiment for the 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 21 

overthrow of the traffic in humanity. It took all this 
to bring it about. No great moral reform takes place 
without agitation, or without martyrs. Those men 
bore the brunt of battle before the battle was. They 
were most surely heroes. They made the tidal wave 
of opinion that swept the country with insistent force 
and struck the shackles from 3,000,000 slaves.^^ 

^^And you, father, were one of them,^^ cried the 
enthusiastic girl. ^^What perils you must have 
braved V’ 

did all I could, you may be sure,^^ answered 
the judge, m^odestly, ^^and I imagine it would be more 
agreeable to be whipped in a hand-to-hand encounter 
than to be caricatured, misrepresented and lied about, 
and by those, too, who claimed to have the abolition 
of slavery near their hearts, who prayed unceasingly 
for its utter destruction, and then split hairs as to the 
way in which it was to be accomplished, and who 
fondly hoped to exterminate it by marking boundary 
lines.^^ 

^^But then,^^ asked J ean, ^ Vas there no way by 
which this terrible war could have been averted? No 
way by which the government could have regulated 
and gradually suppressed slavery 

^^Eegulations and restrictions,^^ replied the Judge, 
waxing eloquent, ^^put upon such a vice by a govern- 
ment are but its terms of partnership. Gradual 
suppression of a mighty evil is always a signal fail- 
ure, and while we wait to prove these failures the 
enemy gains foothold.^^ 


22 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


'•1 am proud of you, father — proud to be my 
father's boy — proud to be the daughter of a patriot/' 
said. J ean, with tears in her clear eyes. am a pa- 
triot, too, and if ever such an issue comes to the front 
in my day, I intend to do a patriot's part, if I am a 
woman." 

do not think such an issue will ever be forced to 
the front again. That was a moral question as well 
as political. Other matters vex the people of today 
— money matters mostly — in which more diplomacy 
is required than bravery." 

'T must hurry now. I have but fifteen minutes 
in which to get down town." 

‘^^You surely are not going out tonight?" 

^^Business appointments must be kept. The storm 
was not considerate enough to leave town before The 
man' came, and The man' cannot wait for the storm 
to take its departure, so what is to be done?" 

^^Does tTames know?" 

^T do not want the horses tonight." 

Jean stepped out and returned with his wraps. 
She held the great coat while he thrust his long arms 
into it. Then she tied his muffler around his neck. 

^Tather, while you are out, if you run across any 
lonely reformer, put in for Jean an application for 
the position of first assistant," laughed Vivian. 

Judge Thorn left the room, and these two daugh- 
ters of fortune settled themselves for a comfortable 


evening. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


2d 


Before it seemed possible that an hour had gone 
they heard a vehicle drive np to the side gate. 

The carriage stopped for several minutes, then 
rattled away over the hard ground, and presently the 
judge re-entered the room. 

^TJgh! This is a tough night. Fire feels good,^^ 
and he rubbed his hands briskly. 

brought home company, girls. TSTot exactly 
the reformer Vivian was speaking of; perhaps some- 
one to reform..^^ 

^^What do you mean 
^^Whom have you found 

• think I may be able to explain what I mean, 
but until the girl thaws out a little we will not know 
who she is,^^ said the judge mysteriously. 

• ^^What in the world do you mean, father ? But 
tell us about it.^^ 

‘^Well, as usual on a night of this sort, there was 
a missing man. The search for him took me a couple 
of blocks out of my way and in coming back I passed 
a saloon of a low order and found the girl lying in 
the sleet. I thought more than likely she was drunk, 
and stepped into the saloon to advise them to look af- 
ter their productions. Here 1 found her father in a 
state of beastly intoxication and learned that she had 
been there, a short tkne before, begging him to go 
home with her to a sick wife and some hungry chil- 
dren, but I could not find out where this home was. 
Just as I left the saloon a cab came along, and I had 


24 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


the driver put the girl in it. This is all. Where are 
jou going, Jean 

Going to see the object of your charity.’’ 

Judge Thorn placed his hand on Jean’s shoulder 
and pushed her gently back into her chair. 

Possess your soul in patience. Ton could be of 
no possible service if you were to go. Mrs. Floyd 
has her in charge and will do all that is necessary. I 
am not sure that it was wise to bring her here. I am 
almost sorry that I did so, but I hated to leave her 
and there was not a policeman in sight ; there never 
is. 

It is a shame such places as the place at which I 
stopped tonight are allowed to exist. Two-thirds of 
the crime and misery of our entire nation can be 
traced directly to their doors. They are a public 
nuisance, an outrage to civilization. Temperance 
people must see to it that license is raised so high that 
this sort cannot obtain it.” 

Would that shut them up ?” said Jean. 

Certainly it would.” 

Not all the saloons ?” 

All the poor, low ones.” 

What about the rich ones ?” 

It would make no difference with them, but they 
have not the bad effect on the morals of a community 
that the low ones have. They are patronized by a set 
of people who do not pour their last cent down their 
throats and employ their time beating their families.” 


THE DAUGHTER OF A KEPUBLICAjST. 


25 


Jean crossed one foot over the other, leaned slightly 
forward and with her head dropped a little to one 
side in the old-time way, sat studying the fire. She 
was trying to solve some knotty problem. 

Her father smiled. It seemed she was the little 
Jean come back. 



Give me some, quick! 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


27 


CHAPTEE III. 

JEAN THE ABOLITIONIST. 

Come in, father, and make yourself comforta- 
ble.’’ It was Jean speaking, as she stood in the glow 
of the library lamp. I have been waiting for you. 
You need not cast your eye around for the paper ; you 
will not find it until my case has had a hearing.” 
Judge Thorn sank into the great easy chair before 
the fire with an air of forced resignation, and the 
young woman continued : 

It is quite necessary nowadays, you know, for 
women to have ^ideas.’ I have ideas on social and 
moral questions, but I do not know just where I be- 
long when it comes to politics.” 

The judge lifted his hands with a show of expostu- 
lation. 

So our J ean would be a politician,” he cried. 

Oh, the times ! Oh, the customs !” 

Not quite so bad as that, father,” replied the 
young woman, smiling but serious; ^^but I am in 
downright earnest. The making, the unmaking and 
the enforcing of law are politics, and every American 
woman should have an interest in these things. Every 


28 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


thinking woman must have an interest in them. I 
must know more of politics.’’ 

You are right/’ said her father, thoughtfully ; 
^'you are right.” I do not believe a woman should 
get out of her sphere, but a woman’s influence is 
mighty, and inasmuch as all law and reform come 
through the ballot box, there can be no harm in her 
giving an intelligent hearing to politics.” 

Then, father, please listen to me for a few min- 
utes ; I want to tell you what has set me to thinking 
along these lines. Two weeks ago you brought 
Maggie Crowley here. I went to see her in her room 
the next morning, and she told me her story. Her 
mother was sick, the children were hungry and cold, 
so she started out to find the father before he had 
spent his money for drink. 

When she finally found him, she found him in a 
saloon in the act of handing over his last dollar to pay 
for liquor that others had drunk as well as himself. 
She got the dollar some way and started home, vrhen, 
as she said, she fell. The dollar rolled into the street 
and a passerby picked it up and pocketed it, in spite 
of the fact that she told him that it was hers, and that 
it was the last. 

I shall never forget the way she looked when she 
came to this part of her story. Her eyes brimmed 
with tears and her voice was lost in a great big sob. 
She begged me, for the love of heaven, to go to her 
mother, who must be half -crazed with grief because of 
her disappearance, and to take her something to eat. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


29 


So Mrs. Floyd fixed a basket of lunch and we 
went. A lump rose in my throat when I went into 
that place. It was cold, very cold. Maggie’s mother 
was lying on a bed in one corner of the room, with one 
thin quilt over her, and a tiny moaning baby at her 
breast. Sitting on a box near the bed were two chil- 
dren, a small boy and a girl. They were huddled 
under a fragment of blanket. The boy was crying 
for something to eat and his sister was trying bravely 
to comfort him. 

There was not a spark of fire nor a crumb of food 
about the place. When Mrs. Floyd opened the basket 
and the children saw what it contained, they bounded 
toward it like wolves, and the woman reached out her 
thin hand and said, eagerly : ^ Give me some quick ! 

I’m nearly starved, and the baby is so weak — my 
breasts are dry.^ 

I took off my glove and felt her hand, and I really 
thought she must be frozen ; but she said she had been 
that way so much she was growing used to it. 

We stopped on our way home and ordered some 
coal, and later made a raid on our closets and pantry 
and made up a load of stuff to take back. I sent some 
good blankets and quite an assortment of clothing, so 
that by night they were fairly comfortable. 

I went again the next day to see how they were 
getting along and to give them news of Maggie, und 
while I was there the father came home for the first 
time. He was over his spell of intoxication, but was 
weak, and tottered like an old man. His eyes were 


30 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 

bloodshot, and on the whole he was not a very pre- 
possessing looking gentleman, but I could not help 
feeling sorry for him. It seemed so sad to see a be- 
ing, created in the image of God, such a miserable 
wreck. 

Casting his eye hurriedly around the room, he 
went to the bedside and asked for Maggie. His wife 
told him how she had gone for him, how she fell, and 
the rest of the story, and then he told his tale, and — 
can you believe it, father — that man kicked the girl 
out of the door — ^kicked his own daughter down the 
steps into the storm that night, and gave her the in- 
jury from which she lies here under our roof now. 

My blood boiled, fairly boiled. I could feel it 
bubbling. His wife turned her face to the tiny baby, 
and I could see her frame shake under the cover. 
The man knelt beside the bed and wept, too, and 
again I was sorry, with a sort of contempt mixed in, 
for the man. 

After a time his wife turned to him, and, resting 
her thin hand on his head, spoke kindly to him, and 
referred him to the Lord for the strength that he so 
sorely lacked. The man did pray, and I am sure he 
was in earnest; and he asked his wife^s forgiveness 
and took a solemn oath that he would never touch an- 
other cursed drop.’’ 

Good” ejaculated the judge. 

Good ?” echoed Jean. Wait, I have not finished 
yet. I went there several times. I liked to go. It 
made me happy to see the look that was coming into 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


31 


(iie woman’s eyes. She took two half-dollar pieces 
from under the pillow one morning, and proudly dis- 
played them, telling me it was the first time in a year 
her husband had given her so much. She said she 
had hoped in vain, so many times, for him to reform 
that she had given up hope, but that now she really 
believed poor Maggie’s misfortune would prove their 
blessing. They have not always been poor. Once, 
when they were younger, they owned a nice home and 
the husband occupied a good position. But he chose 
for his associates men who spent a good part of their 
time in a certain fashionable downtown saloon, and to 
be social he drank with them. He was not a man who 
could drink a great deal and not become intoxicated, 
so, when he began to lie around drunk, they pushed 
him out. 

Mrs. Crowley says the starting point of all their 
poverty and sorrow and shame was on the threshold of 
the respectable gilt and glass palace that bears over its 
doors the names of Allison, Bussell & Joy. She 
knows the place well. I think those gentlemen would 
not be pleased to hear the things she says of them ; for 
certain it is her husband would never have been a 
drunkard if it had been necessary for him to have 
learned the habit in a low grog shop.” 

Jean paused a second and looked at her father, but 
he seemed unaware of her gaze, and she continued : 

Then I went in to-day to tell them that Maggie 
would be home in a few days, and I found a change. 
The girl Cora was on the bed with her mother. The 


32 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


blankets and' sheets had disappeared. The few pieces 
of furniture that the room contained were scattered in 
disorder. I will try to tell the rest of the story as 
Mrs. Crowley told it to me. I will never forget, 
father, the helpless despair that sounded in her voice 
and manner as she talked. 

^ Ah, Miss Thorn !’ she said, wearily, ^ It’s all 
over — all gone. I should have known better than to 
have hoped again ; but hope is so sweet ! Yesterday 
morning my husband seemed more like himself than 
he has for years. He kissed us when he went away 
and promised to be home early. We were all very 
happy. He is such a kind, good man when he is him- 
self. Oh ! if only he had never crossed the threshold 
of that gilded trap of hell. Those men’s names burn 
in my mind. I wonder if such men as Allison, Rus- 
sell and Joy have hearts. 

^ Cora fixed supper, and then we waited. He did 
not come ; but I felt so sure some way that he would 
that I was not uneasy. The children finally had to 
eat alone. About 9 o’clock he came. Dear Miss 
Thorn, if you have never seen a raving, frenzied man, 
pray God you never may. This was the way he came 
home. He had had just enough of liquor to fire up a 
gnawing, burning pain and not enough to satisfy him. 
He came directly to the bed and demanded the money 
he had given me in the morning. I told him it was 
i>;one. He swore an oath, and asked me where. I 
told him Johnnie had spent it for food. He swore 


• THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEF0BLICAN, 


33 


another awful oath, and took up a stick of wood, with 
which he began to beat the boy. 

W hen you are a mother you can better imagine 
than I can describe how I felt, lying helpless in bed, 
and seeing a man, my own husband, so cruelly heating 
my innocent child. Cora, poor Cora, went bravely to 
hei brother s rescue, and her father, God forgive him, 
beat her until the blood came from his blows, and she 
fell to the floor, and then he kicked her. 

I could stand this no, longer. I sprang from the 
bed, but I was weak. I could do nothing, and he, the 
man who promised before God to protect me, kicked 
me, too. It seemed to me then that his boot-toe 
pierced my heart. Johnnie ran oiit to call some one 
in, but before he returned my husband had taken the 
blankets and other things that he could pawn and had 
gone. 

Perhaps you think it strange for me to tell these 
things to you, but my heart is bursting and. my brain 
is on fire with such misery that I must talk. Come 

and see what a man can do w’hen crazed with rum 

a good father when he is himself— and in a Christian 
country ! Where are the preachers and the people 
who call themselves God’s people, that they do not 
drive away forever the cause of all this ?’ 

I looked at the girl Cora ; and I wish, father, that 
she might be put on exhibition in some public show 
window downtown, conspicuously labeled, ' A speci- 
men of the work done by a father when under the ef- 
fects of Christian America’s legal poison.’ 


34 


THE DAHGHTEK OF A EEPHBLICAH. 


“ She was literally covered with wounds and her 
legs were so swollen she could not walk. 

“ Now, father, get out your list of political parties, 
examine the candidates, and put me where I belong. 
This is a question that must come into politics, as all 
reforms come through the ballot-box, and I must give 
my influence to that political party or power making 
this a clear-cut issue. I am an Abolitionist.” 

“ A what ?” 

“ An Abolitionist.” 

“ How is that ?” 

“ Simply enough : I stand for the everlasting 

abolition of the liquor traffic. It is quite the proper 
thing for the daughter of a Republican to be an Aboli- 
tionist.” 

Judge Thorn laughed. 

“ You put your case plain enough,” he said. 
“ There is small room to doubt how you stand, but I 
think that you will see that abolition in this ease 
Avould be impracticable. You know, my girl, in these 
days a half-loaf is better than no bread. Political 
parties, like the grass of the field, sprout up and die 
away. There are but two real parties. The fight on 
leading issues is between them. All that is necessary 
for you to do is to read the platforms of these two 
parties and make your choice. Listen !” 

He took down a political almanac from one of the 
library shelves. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


35 


are opposed/^ he read all sumptuary laws 
as an interference with the individual rights of the 
citizen/^ 

Jean sat rocking slowly, with her hands clasped be- 
hind her head. As her father read, her forehead 
. wrinkled. After he had finished, she waited as if ex- 
pecting something more, then said: 

^^Is that all P 

^^That is all.^^ 

^Then it occurs to me, if I can understand plain 
English, that this party proposes to do nothing to stop 
the terrible drink curse. Bring on another. That is 
not my party.’^ 

Judge Thorn read again, and this time with an air 
of profound satisfaction: 

^^The first concern of all gobd government is the 
virtue and sobriety of the people and the purity of the 
home.^^ 

Jean's face lit up, and she looked eagerly toward 
her father. 

^^We cordially sympathize," read on the judge, 
^Vith all wise and well-directed efforts for the promo- 
tion of temperance and morality." 

Jean sat looking into the fire. Her father waited 
a few seconds, then she turned her face to him. 

^^And what do they propose to do ?" 

"^Do ?" 

^^Yes, DO! The cordial sympathy of the whole 
Eepublican party does not make Mrs. Crowley any 
happier nor take any of the soreness out of Cora's 


36 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


body, nor do anything toward curing poor Maggie; 
and I cannot see how ^cordial sympathy’ is going to 
shut up any saloons or keep Mr. Crowley from get- 
ting drunk again. So far, so good, but read on. I 
am anxious to learn what this party proposes to DO 
to promote ^temperance and morality.’ ” 

That is all the platform contains on the subject,” 
said Judge Thorn. Individuals are left to their 
own judgment as to the best methods to be used in the 
restriction of the evil, although the policy of the party 
is weli known.” 

It is ?” 

High license.” 

Does high license promote temperance and moral- 
ity ?” 

Certainly : high license closes a great many sa- 
loons entirely, and puts the business in the hands of 
men who run respectable places.” 

Respectable places !” quoted Jean, thoughfully. 

The judge looked at the fire in silence. 

And, father,” persisted the earnest girl, do sta- 
tistics prove that* fewer licenses are issued in cities 
where high license laws are in effect and that there is 
a decrease in crime and poverty ?” 

To be sure. It must be so, for Republicans, as a 
rule, are the temperance people and, as a rule, the}^ 
indorse high license. But you have heard the read- 
ing, ^ All wise and well-directed efforts/ one is at lib- 
erty to substitute no license by local option, or any 
other restrictive measure he deems wise.” 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


37 


Is there room on this broad platform for any 
liquor dealers 

Quite a number ; and here again may be seen the 
higher moral tone of the party, for nine times out of 
ten it is the better class of dealers who are allied with 
it.'’ 

Jean leaned back in her. chair and rocked. As she 
mused she rocked more and more slowly, and when 
she stopped abruptly her father knew the verdict was 
ready. 

Well, father, this much is settled: I do not be- 

lieve in high license. In the first place, I think it 
dishonest to let the rich man, who can afford to do so, 
pay for the privilege of making more money and shut 
out the poor man, who is trying to earn a living, be- 
cause he is not already rich. In the second place, it 
occurs to my mind, more so after knowing Mrs. Crow- 
ley, that if license laws could be so arranged as to 
wdpe out the ^respectable' places, the low ones would 
soon follow. Public sentiment would not tolerate 
them, and if it did, the coming generation would not 
be lured to destruction by glitter and music. 

In the third place," and the girl sprang to her 
feet and stood looking her father full in the face, a 
man who labored fearlessly for the overthrow of hu- 
man slavery when public opinion pointed the finger of 
scorn at him, said to me not long since : ‘ Regula- 

tions and restrictions put on such a vice by the gov- 
ernment are but its terms of partnership.' " 


38 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


It took Judge Thorn half a minute to recognize his 
words. Then he laughed. 

^^Jean, child, you are getting sharp. Your logic is 
all right, but you must remember times have changed. 
This is different.^^ 

cannot see, father, that the moral issue is any 
different. Of the two great evils, intemperance is 
certainly a greater curse than ever slavery was; for 
while it has all the pain and heartaches and sorrow of 
every description that accompanies slaver}^, the worst 
feature of it is that hell is filling up with souls that 
drink their doom when they drain the wine cup. T 
think I understand myself, father, and I say again, I 
am an Abolitionist. Bring on some other party plat- 
form.^^ 

^There are no others but the labor organizations 
and the ^cranks.^ 

^AVhat do the labor people say?^^ 

^^They regard intelligence, virtue and temperance, 
important as they are, as secondary to the great mate- 
rial issues now pressing for solution.^^ 

^^\nd the ^cranks,^ as you call them?^^ 

‘^'They have no policy, and their politics consists in 
trying do undo all the temperance legislation th^y get 
through other parties because it does not come through 
theirs. As a political party they are the most fanat- 
ical and narrow-minded that history takes account of. 
Indeed, I doubt not that, in certain instances, their 
obstinate opposition to men and measures has been 
little short of criminal. But I will read: 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


39 


favor the legal prohibition by state and na- 
tional legislation of the manufacture, importation and 
sale of alcoholic beverages.^ 

^^Eureka!^^ she shouted. am not alone. How 
many others like me?’^ 

quarter of a million, I presume,^^ he answered, 
a trifle grimly. 

^‘^And must I take my stand in polities away from 
my dear father, who is so wise and just 

^^You are young, Jean, and impulsive. You will 
see the matter in a different light when you have 
given the subject more thought. I am old now. For 
over half a century I have studied the affairs of men, 
and I tell you the time is not now expedient for such 
an issue to be forced to the front. 

^men will it beP' 

^^When sentiment is strong enough behind the 
movement to enforce the law.^^ 

^^Strange,^^ mused Jean. '’One might almost im- 
agine, by the amount of resolving that has been done 
in the last few years, that sentiment was strong 
enough to sink the traffic five miles deep in the ocean 
of righteous indignation. I tell you, father, senti- 
ment is the prime essential of the whole thing; but as 
long as it floats around everywhere, like moonshine, 
what is it good for? We need concentration and 
crystallization now. In other words^ I believe in a 
party of embodied sentiment.^^ 


40 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


CHAPTEE IV. 

ASLEEP IN JESUS. 

Gilbert Allison, of the firm of Allison, Eussell & 
J oy, wholesale and retail liquor dealers, walking 
briskly along a sideway that led toward one of the 
great throughfares of the city, halted a second before 
crossing the street. As he stopped a voice reached his 
ear. Hearing the voice he took a more careful glance 
at the surroundings and found himself standing in 
front of a plain little wooden structure that he 
learned, from a sign upon one corner, was some sort 
of an orthodox chapel. Through the narrow, open 
doorway the voice floated : 

Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep. 

From which none ever wake to weep — 

A calm and undisturbed repose. 

Unbroken by the last of foes. 

Asleep in Jesus ! Oh, how sweet 
To be for such a slumber meet ! 

With holy confidence to sing 
That death has lost its venom sting. 

Both words and tune were unfamiliar to him. Was 
it the song itself, sung to the sweetly pathetic tune of 
^^Rest/^ was it the strangely beautiful and solemn 


TKE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN 


41 


/oice of the singer, or was it common curiosity to see 
the owner of the unusual voice that proved the attrac- 
tion prompting him to step into the vestibule ? Un- 
seen he watched as the song went on : 

Asleep in J esus ! peaceful rest, 

Whose waking is supremely blest. 

No fear nor foe shall dim the hour 
That manifests the Savior’s power. 

Asleep in Jesus ! Oh, for me 
May such a blissful refuge be ! 

Securely shall my ashes lie 

And wait the summons from the sky. 

The sweet voice of the singer died away, and the 
stillness was broken only by low sobbing. Then the 
minister arose. 

Gilbert Allison had 'seen enough. The plain, dark 
coffin just before the altar railing told him that an- 
other human soul had left its earthly body and had 
gone beyond. 

He was not interested in this. His mind dwelt on 
the singer. She was rather small, a well-formed and 
graceful appearing young woman of perhaps tA/nity- 
two or twenty-four. She wore a plain dark dress, 
and a round hat rested on the masses of red-brown 
hair that framed her face and crowned her shapely 
head. Here and there in the mass a carved silver 
hair-pin showed itself, and Gilbert Allison found him- 
self studying the effect as he walked down the street ; 
found himself puzzled as to why he had stopped and 
noticed her hair or her. Evidently she had made an 


42 the daughter of a republican. 

impression on him. He tried, in a way, to analyze 
this, and finally gave it np, yet found himself con- 
tinually recalling the face in its frame of red-brown 
hair. 

He had known many charming women in his three 
and thirty years of life, but he had never felt before 
the indescribable charm that had suddenly, like the 
fragrance of a hidden violet, come to him for the un- 
known singer in the dingy chapel. Gilbert xHlison 
had guarded well his hearts affections, but there 
comes a time in the lives of most men when the heart 
refuses to be subject to the will and obstinately goes 
whither it pleases. This man^s heart was about to 
assert its rights. The daughter of a Republican was 
to have a lover, for it was Miss Thorn who sang. 

That Miss Thorn should sing had been the wish of 
the now lifeless sleeper, and Jean had done her best. 

All that was mortal of Maggie Crowley rested in 
the plain, dark coffin. A life fraught with sorrow 
and tears and an innocent shame was ended; a body 
racked with hunger and pain and cold was at rest. 
From the time of her awful hurt, now a year ago, 
Maggie had been an invalid. The children had gone 
out to work, and the frail mother had tried to cheer 
them as she toiled in the valley of despair. A new 
sorrow had come into the wretched home: Cora, yet 

a child in years, because she had a fair face and a 
drunkard for a father, had been robbed of her one 
priceless possession — her unspotted character — ^by a 
man whose name was familiar in high circles, and 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 4.^ 

whose hand was courted by more than one mother for 
some cherished daughter. 

From the time that her sister bartered away her 
purity, in the bitter, thankless battle that she fought 
for bread, Maggie had steadily grown weaker, and 
when the mother knew^ the time was near at hand for 
her to go she sent for Miss Thorn. 

Jean had never been beside a death-bed, but she 
did not hesitate. 

Maggie was lying, white and thin, upon the pillow. 
She looked eagerly toward the door. Her eyes lit 
with a lingering light, and a faint smile came around 
the corners of her drawn mouth when she saw that It 
was Jean. She spoke slowly and softly, without 
much effort, and quite distinctly. 

^T^m going pretty soon, Miss Thorn, and I wanted 
to see you. YouVe been so good to us — God will 
bless you for it. When I am gone, donT forget poor 
mc^ther. Please doiFt, Miss Thorn! She will be 
sad. I^m the only one that remembered the other 
days, and we used sometimes to talk of them and pray 
that they might come back. Maybe God will send 
them back some day — but I will not be here. I^m 
not afraid to die. Christ died for the drunkard^s 
child — Pm sure he did. Pm so glad to go. In m}” 
FathePs house are many mansions — many mansions 
— one for us.^’ 

She closed her eyes as she repeated the words softly. 

*^^When I am gone, do not feel sad, mother — not 
too sad,^^ she continued in a moment. ^^Think that 


44 TTIE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 

I have only gone to sleep to wake up where there is 
no more sorrow. I’ll be waiting in our mansion, 
mother, and there we will be happy, for the Book says 
he will not be there who puts the bottle to his neigh- 
bor’s lips.” 

She stopped to rest. The room was very quiet. 

When my father comes,” a look of intense long- 
ing came into her sunken eyes, and for a moment she 
struggled to force back the great sob of sorrow that 
seemed choking her, tell him ^goodby’ for Maggie. 
Perhaps he will be sorry — ^not like he once would have 
been — just a little. Don’t let the children forget me. 
Dear children ! How I wish I could take them all to 
the mansion. And Cora, poor Cora ” 

The last tears that ever shone in Maggie’s eyes 
filled them now. 

God knows about Cora,” said Jean, tenderly, 
while the mother wept in silence. 

The dying girl lay quite exhausted, and, while she 
rested, her eyes wandered from one to the other of 
the few around the bed and rested lovingly on her 
mother’s face. Her minutes were numbered. Mor- 
tality was ebbing away. When she spoke again it 
was with more of an effort, pausing now and then for 
breath. 

Stoop over, mother ; let me put — my arms around 
— your dear, kind neck. Put your face down — so I 
can put my cheek— against yours — as I did when we 
were happy. I’m going back — to it. I smell the 
roses. I hear the pigeons — on the roof. Lift me — 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


45 


mother — gently. I am — tired. Sing — my — good 

nigh t — song — I’ 11 — go — to — ^sleep . ’ ’ 

Mrs. Crowley drew the dying girl’s head close to 
her heart and tried to sing; but her voice failed. 
Then, in the presence of the death angel, Jean sang 
for the girl’s long sleeping. 

Suddenly a clear, happy, childish voice rang out on 
thtr stillness — ^^Papa’s coming !” 

It was the last. The arms around the mother’s 
neck unclasped. The weary head sank upon the 
pillow. The eyelids fluttered. The breaths came 
shorter and shorter — the weary girl had entered into 
rest. 

The soul of the drunkard’s daughter had gone 
where justice reigns supreme ; where a God of justice 
watches the kingdoms of the earth and in mercy stays 
the doom that comes a certain penalty of the nation 
that sells its maids and youths to the rum fiend. 

Mrs. Crowley stood looking down on the wan face 
of her first-born. 

Thank God she is happy ! But it’s hard — so 
hard !” 

A mother’s love is the same the world around. 
This mother threw herself down by the bedside, and, 
holding one of the lifeless hands to her lips, sobbed 
bitterly. 

It seemed a desecration that just now the father 
should come stumbling into the scene, filling the room 
with the fumes of liquor and muttering drunken 


46 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


curses. But Maggie was beyond the reach of human 
harm. This would never pain her heart again. 

Neighbors came in, and Jean stepped out into the 
fresh air. 

It was nearly noontime. The streets were busy, 
and as she went towards home she saw the beer 
wagons driving in every direction, loaded with their 
freight of sorrow and pain and death. As she passed 
the palaces of gilded doom, arrayed in cut glass and 
mirrors, luring the souls of men and boys to hell, she 
thought of the Christian voters of the nation who al- 
low it to .be so because, bound by party ties and fooled 
by party leaders, they will not force this mighty issue 
to the front and demand its recognition at the ballot- 
box; and these words rang in her ears: ^‘^Because I 

have called and ye have refused, ye have set at naught 
all my counsel. I also will laugh at your calamity 
when your destruction cometh as a whirlwind.^^ 

The words burned in her mind, and when she 
reached home she entered the library and without re- 
moving hat or gloves threw herself upon a sofa. 

It was not quite time for luncheon. The house was 
quiet. 

Vivian had, during the year, married the rector of 
a large and fashionable city church. For weeks be- 
fore the eventful occasion life had been one round of 
shopping and fitting, of entertaining and rehearsing. 
Jean, as maid of honor, had figured conspicuously in 
the different functions, and for a time her mind was 
so absorbed with the fragrance and sunshine of life 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


47 


that its seamy side was forgotten. But after it was 
all over her thoughts and sympathies went out again 
to that family of the ^^other half^ that she had so 
strangely become interested in, and the old question 
pressed itself for solution, wh}^ in a Christian land 
of plenty, such a state of life for such vast numbers 
was allowable or even possible. 

With the sound of the dying girPs voice in her ears 
and the sight of a nation^s legalized poison yet before 
her vision she rested, and so engrossed was she with 
her thoughts that she did not notice the entrance of 
her father. 

^^4 penny for your thoughts, my dear.^’ 

Jean looked up suddenly. Then she caught her 
father’s hand and drew him to her side. 

have seen a death to-day, father — a death, a 
drunkard, loads of beer and whisky.” 

^^Crowley dead at last ?” 

^^Maggie.” 

^Toor girl. No doubt she is better off.” 

^^es, .better off,” repeated Jean. ^^But, father, I 
have been thinking of the whirlwind. You know the 
Book that has voiced unerringly the stage play of the 
ages says destruction is coming as a whirlwind — as a 
whirlwind. Can you not catch its roaring under the 
bluster of silver and tariff and war? Do you never 
hear the mutterings of its power? Are there not 
signs of the coming whirlwind — signs unmistakable 


48 


THE DAUGHTER OI’ A REPUBLICAN. 


— roastings in the South and lynchings in the North, 
bloody strikes from east to west, deep-seated unrest 
among the nation’s laboring masses, and the steadily 
increasing cry of a multitude of suffering and help- 
less people writhing under the heel of the great in- 
iquity ? Couple the signs of the times, father, with 
an indisputable knowledge of corruption in politics, 
the inefficacy of the law because of the absolute power 
of rum and ^boodle’ and the utter absence of any fixed 
moral principle in the dealings of the great majority 
of the old party leaders, and have we not an fissue’ 
that imperatively demands the attention of every 
loyal American ? 

The more I think, the less I blame the laboring 
element for their dissatisfaction, bordering on mad- 
ness at times. I feel that they have just cause to be 
alarmed. Am I a pessimist, father, or is there a 
cancer eating out the nation’s life ?” 

The young woman stood in the center of the room, 
erect and with arm extended. The lawyer was look- 
ing at her with a gleam of fatherly admiration ; but 
as she closed the outburst with her question he grew 
grave and stroked his beard. The facts were not un- 
familiar to him. 

I do wish,” he said thoughtfully, that the labor- 
ing element would see that it is to their interests to 
stand by that party that promises them the most in 
the way of reform, instead of making so much fuss 
and striking and splitting into small parties that can 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


49 


hope to effect nothing and might cripple their best 
friend and put the country hopelessly in the hands of 
the political enemies of progress and reform,” 

Jean laughed. 

“You look now for all the world, father, like a 
child whom I saw a few days ago. I came upon her 
holding a doll’s body, with a stump of neck where the 
head had once been. She looked down at it tenderly 
and smiled a dear little motherly smile. ‘ What do 
you see, child V I asked. ‘ My dolly’s beautiful face,’ 
she said. ' Where is it ?’ said I. ‘ It’s gone,’ she an- 
swered, proudly, but with the fond look still in her 
eyes. You view the reform element in your party in 
about the same light.” 

“ When did you turn champion of the labor 
party ?” said the judge, a trifle impatiently. 

“ I have done no turning. There is but one party 
standing for the real good of the people. What is 
the use of organizing a party to exterminate trusts 
and then being afraid to measure arms politically 
with the greatest trust on earth ? The laboring ele- 
ment will seek their best interests sooner or later.” 

“ Your party has added a few labor planks to catch 
votes.” 

“ I beg your pardon, father. Almost from the be- 
ginning, some thirty years ago, this party stood as it 
does now. The trouble with you is, if I may be al- 
lowed to say it, you know nothing of the party I have 
discovered. Let me read you its platform.” 


go THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 

And from a small, green book Jean began her read- 
ing, while Judge Thorn listened attentively. But 
before she had finished James appeared with the 
evening paper, and almost unconsciously he opened it. 
As he cast his eyes on the page a smile overspread 
his face, and the words of the reading were lost. 
J^an finished presently, and frowned a little, when 
she saw her father so deeply engrossed in his paper. 
Presently he looked up, the broad smile still upon his 
face. 

'^Jean, my girl, listen!^’ and he read an account of 
the dramatic passage of the anti-canteen law by Con- 
gress. 

Judge Thorn had been deeply interested in the 
canteen question. He had known a boy, the son of a 
professional friend, who had been most carefully and 
prayerfully reared at home in fear of the inheritance 
of an appetite for liquor, but who had gone at his 
country's call to uphold her honor, and had become a 
drunkard through the regimental canteen. He him- 
self had seen the fifty law-breaking canteens in Camp 
Thomas at Chickamauga, with their daily salefs 
amounting to hundreds of dollars. He had seen 
something of the same evil at the little army post 
near their own city; and a young man who had been 
his confidential clerk before the war, and who was 
now with one of the volunteer regiments at Manila, 
had written to him of the canteen: ^Tt has been 

the curse of this army, and has caused more deaths 
than the Mauser bullets. It is a recognized fact that 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


51 


in regiments where canteens are established drinking 
is not restrained, rather encouraged, and numerous 
sprees are started that are finished in the saloons just 
outside. Six cases of delirium tremens have re- 
sulted from the establishment of the r^imental grog- 
gery. Our army is in danger a thousand times 
greater than any foreign foe may ever bring against 
us. When will the government take action 

The lawyer’s clear mind had seen where the re- 
sponsibility for the whole system lay, and, sorely tried 
by the President’s inaction, partly to lift from his 
party the odium of the canteen disgrace and partly 
as a matter of real heart choice, he had worked with 
more than his usual vigor to help bring to bear a pres- 
sure in Washington great enough to abolish the army 
saloon. 

Cheer, Jean!” he said. Cheer for the party 
in power. The bill has passed.” 

Was it your party or public sentiment in spite 
of your party that brought about the passage of the 
bill ?” asked J ean. 

Sentiment, my dear girl,” said the judge, dog- 
matically, without machinery back of it, is good for 
nothing.” 

Exactly. If you remember, father, that has 
been the burden of my plea for a new party. An- 
swer me a question, and I will cheer so that I may be 
heard a block. You tell me that the position of this 
party you ask me to cheer for is high license; now 


52 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


here is a list of ninety-five of the principal cities of 
the country, forty-six high license and forty-nine low 
license. The total arrests for drunkenness in the 
high license cities was 288,907, as against 208,537 
in the low license cities. What I want to know is 
this: How is this sort of a temperance measure go- 

ing to ^promote temperance and morality’ ? Public 
control, local option, mulct tax and other measures 
you devise figure up about the same way. Take 
these statistics and in the light of them solve the puz- 
zle for me.” 

Statistics are hard to dwell in unity with. Take 
them to a preacher. This is a matter for them to deal 
with,” laughed the judge. 

Why do they not deal with them, then ? Seven 
million church member voters in this country ! Why 
do not they focus their religion and do something? 
I divine a reason. While they live all the rest of the 
year with prayers and resolutions, they go out on a 
moral debauch on election day with a disreputable 
individual known as Party.” 

The judge stroked his beard and smiled. Then he 
turned again to his paper. No need,” he said, 
complacently, for a better party than what we have. 
Listen !” and again he read the measure that had so 
pleased him. Is it not splendid, and so plainly 
worded that a wayfaring man, though a fool or a 
third-rate lawyer, cannot mistake the meaning of it. 
Now watch the machinery work. We shall have 
‘ father’s boy ’ back cheering for the grand old party 


THE DAUGHTER OF A KEPUBLICAH. 


53 


yet/’ and the judge placed his hand fondly on Jean’s 
shoulder. 

I’ll keep my eye on the ‘ machine/ ” answered 
Jean, playfully, but I am woefully afraid it is 
punctured, though I wouldn’t mention it for any- 



«Vbrt for Whisky, Boys!'” 


THE DAUGHTER OF A KEPUBLICAIsr. 


55 


CHAPTEK V. 

LESSONS OF AN ELECTION DAY. 

It was the municipal election day. Judge Thorn 
was alone in his office. He sat at his desk, which was 
piled with papers which he was busy sorting. The 
door opened and Miss Thorn entered. The judge 
looked over his shoulder. You are a bit late/’ he 
said. 

Jean looked at her watch. 

A trifle/’ she answered, but I have always 
wanted to know what sort of people run our govern- 
ment, and I have been out satisfying my curiosity. 
I have been to the polls.” 

To the polls,” echoed the judge, sharply, whirling 
around from his desk with a sudden movement that 
scattered his papers over the floor. 

That is what I said, father. I have been to the 
polls ; and worse, I took an active part in the proceed- 
ings by offering the voters ^ no license ’ tickets.” 

Jean, I must say you have overstepped the 
bounds of all propriety. You are a young lady who 
has been allowed a good many privileges, but this is 
carrying things a little too far,” said the judge, al- 
most hotly. 


66 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


You were there this morning, I believe^ father,” 
Jean answered, coolly. 

I believe I was, but that is no reason you should 
go. It is no fit place for a decent woman.” 

I will admit that, father, and I will go a little 
further and say it is no fit place for a decent man 
either.” 

Men have grown used to such sights and sounds 
as are seen and heard around a polling place.” 

I suppose so. But if decent men can grow used 
to such things and escape contamination, I think 
decent women can do the same; and if decent men 
cannot I suppose you would advise them to stay away 
from the polls.” 

^^No; no, indeed. The bad element largely pre- 
dominates now, and it is the duty of every good citi- 
zen to stand by his colors at the ballot box. But we 
will not discuss the matter further. The fact re^ 
mains the same. Of course you are of age and can 
go where you choose, yet I am nevertheless dis- 
pleased.” 

I am sorry that you are displeased, father, and 
if my doing so will afford you any satisfaction, I will 
promise you that I will not be caught in such a howl- 
ing mob again until I can go as an equal of some of 
the specimens I have seen today.” 

Jean removed her hat and jabbed the hat pin into 
it with some asperity. 

I have been grossly insulted,” she said. 

Just what I have expected to hear,” said her 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


57 


father, and what can be done when you put your- 
self in the way of it ? ’’ 

‘‘ I have not the remotest idea how I put myself 
in the way of it, but you will probably be able to ex- 
plain to me. Our venerable Uncle Sam is the offend- 
ing party, and the offense is something like the in- 
dignity you would offer me if you gave Vivian all the 
privileges and love that you should share with me, be- 
cause she happened to be born with black hair, and 
then should try to keep me in a state of blissful de- 
lusion by telling me I had the sweeter disposition. 
There would be about as much sense and justice in 
such a procedure, coming from you, as there is in the 
way Uncle Sam treats women. 

Here I am, a woman of good moral character, 
fairly intelligent, I hope, with a good education, de- 
nied my right to the ballot because, forsooth, I chanced 
to be born a woman and am considered too good. To- 
day’s visit to the polls has reminded me of this insult, 
tendered by our government to its loyal women. 

By the time I got within two blocks of the polling 
place, I could hear the general commotion. When I 
arrived on the scene of action, I found a number of 
women, of good standing in the community, trying to 
get men to vote against license. Truly a humiliating 
business! But as they pressed me, I took a few of 
the ballots and started into the crowd, while a friendly 
looking policeman followed me. 

I had hardly made a start when some one crossed 
my path yelling wildly, Wote for whisky, boys ! Vote 


58 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


for whisky, boys ! ’ He was that half-witted, pump- 
kin-colored individual that you discharged last winter 
because he did not know enough to keep the horses^ 
feet clean. Armed with his license ballot, he halted 
a second before me ; then, fluttering the ballot, which 
he held between his fingers under my nose, he shouted 
again and again, ^ Vote for whisky, boys ! ’’ 

He gave me a look that told me plainer than a 
volume of words could have done that he recognized 
his importance. He knew that he stood head and 
shoulders above me in Uncle Sam’s estimation, in 
spite of my learning and morality, ■ because on him 
had been bestowed a gift denied me. 

I do not like it. I want the right of citizenship. 
I want to stand on an equality with folks at least that 
do not know enough to clean a horse’s feet.” 

It sounds very foolish, Jean,” said her father^ 
^^for one of your birth and breeding to be talking thus 
of an equality with such a character as this.” 

It does sound foolish, wonderfully foolish,” ad- 
mitted Jean. ^A^ou and I know, father, that I am 
his superior, but when it comes to a question of the 
social welfare, that is a very different thing. He well 
understands that he is a privileged character there. 
He is a unit of society’s make-up, and where do I 
come in ? Along with the Chinese, the ex-convict and 
the insane ! I do not relish any such sort of company. 
God made woman capable of self-government, and ex- 
pected it of her. Whv .«^^ould she not be on a suffrage 
equality with man ?” 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


59 


Why do you want to vote, Jean V’ asked the judge, 
as he would begin with a witness. 

Why do you want to vote, father, ? ’’ sharply re- 
plied the girl. 

Why, my vote is my individuality in the hody 
politic. I could not do without my vote,’’ said the 
judge, with a slight hesitation. 

Do you not suppose I want some individuality, 
too ?” came the prompt retort. 

The judge laughed. 

I have every reason to believe you do,” he said. 

Do you not suppose that I would not like to help 
make the laws that govern me ?” asked Jean, taking 
upon her the role of inquisitor. 

Men can make enough laws for both sexes, I 
guess,” w^as the reply, uttered in a tone that carried a 
suspicion of dismissal. 

I guess they can,” persisted Jean ; ^Tut what iSort 
of laws have they been ? Heathenish, some of them !” 

For instance ?” 

Laws that have been on our statute books allowing 
fathers to will away their unborn children; laws 
allowing the father to appoint guardians of whatever 
kind or creed over his children, leaving the mother 
powerless. And what shall we say about the abomina- 
ble laws made by men everyone of them, that legalize 
the sale of drink ?” 

Well, a woman is a woman, Jean, and the polls 
is not a fit place for a w^oman,” and the judge set his 
lips very firmly. 


60 


THE DAUGHTEE OF A KEPUBLICAH. 


That is the assertion you made at the outset, 
father. It is no argument, and much as I respect you, 
I can hardly accept it as final. You know, father, 
that if polling places are not fit for decent women, 
neither are they fit for decent men, and the sooner 
decent people get around and clean them up, the better 
it will be for the country. Come, now, if you have a 
sound, logical reason why women should not vote, 
bring it on.’’ 

Well,” said the judge, ^^even admitting that the 
advent of women in politics might have a cleansing 
effect, women do not want the ballot.” 

What women ?” demanded Jean. 

The majority of women.” 

How do you know they do not ?” 

It is to be supposed that if they were clamoring 
to any great extent for it we would hear of it through 
the papers.” 

What papers ? Papers that oppose it to the bit- 
ter end ? I can show you papers by the dozen and the 
score that would enlighten you along this line. 
Women do not ask, but rather they demand, the ballot. 
But this is begging the question. If it is right for 
women to have the ballot, it is right, and if it is 
wrong, it is wrong — that is all there is to it. How, 
father, tcll me the reasons.” 

Why, Jean, have not I given you reasons and 
have you not overruled them, every one?” was the 
almost testy answer. A woman is a woman, and 
God never intended her to vote.” 


THE DACTGHTER OF A REPUBLIC AI^^. 


61 


Jean laughed merrily. 

What are you laughing at demanded her 
fathei. 

Why, at you ; you are back just where you started. 
IVomen must not vote because they are women. If 
you have nothing better to offer there is no use of 
going over the grounds again. This makes me think 
of the time I studied circulating decimals.” 

The judge joined in Jean’s laugh, and turned again 
to his papers, as if glad of a diversion. 

After Judge Thom had picked up and rearranged 
his papers ho looked toward Jean, who had suddenly 
grown quiet. In her face he saw something that was 
new to him and that in some way sent a little jealoqs 
pang to his heart. Her face was a dream study. A 
soft, far-away expression rested over it, and her father 
knew that she was somewhere, away from her sur- 
roundings, but he did not interrupt her. Presently 
she spoke : 

I saw a man to-day.” 

I supposed that you had seen several.” 

Well, of course,” the girl admitted, ‘^but I rarely 
notice men, and that I remember this one so distinctly 
and think of him surprises me. He w^as tall and 
broad shouldered and dressed in a navy blue business 
suit, and I think probably he was the handsomest man 
I have ever seen, though I cannot tell why I think so. 
His hair and eyes were brown, his hair almost black, 
it was so dark, and a trifle curly. His eyes were clear 
and honest looking, with a touch of fun in them and 


62 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAIT. 


sometliing else that I have not been able to define, but 
that I liked. He wore a mustache, but it only par- 
tially concealed bis mouth. I think perhaps it was 
his mouth that I liked best. It was a firm mouth, 
maybe a hard one, but I admire a firm man.’^ 

Judge Thorn laughed. 

You must have examined him pretty closely.’’ 

No, father, I saw him at a glance some way. 
Perhaps he impressed me as he did because I was so 
disappointed in him. I saw him standing at a short 
distance from the animated crowd around the polls, 
looking on with an air of mingled amusement and dis- 
gust. I made up my mind, that he was the very indi- 
vidual who would take one of my ^no-license’ votes, so 
I asked him. 

He took off his hat and looked down at me, for he 
is tall, a look made of a little astonishment, a bit of 
fun and, I imagined, some pity, and said : ^ I am 

really very sorry that I cannot do as you wish, but I 
cannot consistently vote against license, being myself 
engaged in the liquor business.’ 

Of course I said no more, but I was never so sur- 
prised in my life, and to tell the truth, I was disap- 
pointed.” 

Judge Thorn looked relieved. 

I believe I know now why I remembered him so 
well,” continued Jean. ^^He was the only liquor 
dealer among those I spoke to today, and ignorantly I 
accosted many, who refused my ticket in a gentle- 
manly manner. Yes, I have now seen a gentlemanly 


THE DAUGHTER OI? A REPUBLICAN. 


63 


liquor dealer. I wonder if I will ever see him again. 
But see ! Here are the horses, father. Come, let us 
go,” she said, taking his arm. 

Poor father ! I am sorry for you. It must be a 
trial to have so strange a child, but really I cannot 
help it, and I am sure you will forgive me when you 
remember that I am ^my father’s boy.’ ” 


64 : 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


CHAPTEK VI. 

THE NATION^'s DEFENDERS. 

It was one of those prophetic days of early spring 
when heaven and earth are filled with faint, far prom- 
ises of the sunshine and verdure of the summer, and 
when an expectant hush fills all the air, save as now 
and then a breath of the awakening south wind stirs 
the faded memories of last autumn’s glories where the 
dried leaves cluster auiong the thickets or in the fence 
corners. 

The Thorn carriage occupied by Jean and the 
coachman, James, was rolling along a stretch of sub- 
urban road. 

Jean had just left the home of the Crowleys’, and 
sat in a reverie of sympathy and indignation. Per- 
sonally she felt that she was absolutely safe from any 
harm from the traffic in misery and death; but this 
very fact made her more pitiful and more determined 
to use what infiuence and power she could command 
against it. The carriage slowed up a bit where the 
road divided. 

Which way. Miss Jean ?” 

To the army post, J ames,” and she continued her 
brown study, seeming to notice nothing of the land- 


THE DAUGHTEK OF A REPIJBLieAN. 


65 


scape until they entered the massive iron gates of the 
reservation. 

Just inside the gates, on either side, heavy cannons 
were grouped in triangular fashion and surmounted 
with cones of cannon balls. At regular intervals 
black sign-boards, bright with gilt lettering, gave 
notice that just so far and no farther, and just so fast 
and no faster, the public might travel in this well-ar- 
ranged institution of the government. 

The drive around the inclosure was a long one, and 
when the Thom carriage had reached the side farthest 
removed from the buildings, a sudden jar and crash 
startled Jean, and suddenly she found herself lying 
on the roadside. 

Fortunately she was not hurt, and after she had 
brushed the dust from her eyes and pinned a rent in 
her skirt she’ found that only a slight break in the car- 
riage had caused the accident. So after tying the 
horses to a hitching post at some distance, James 
pushed the carriage to one side, and with the broken 
part started to a blacksmith shop at no great distance 
outside the post, Jean agreeing to wait for him, unless 
he should be gone too long. 

After James had disappeared behind the trees, 
Jean seated herself comfortably on a bench near by, 
and with her head resting against a majestic oak, 
gazed upward^ at the soft spring sky showing through 
the brown network of the branches. A bird a great 
way off circled against the floating clouds for a time 
and disappeared. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


At one end of the inclosiire the drill ground, check- 
ered and bare, could be seen. Through the trees the 
red brick walls of the houses in the officers’ quarters 
showed, while, looking in another direction, she could 
see a number of stone buildings with porches running 
their entire length, onto which opened many doors. 

A little removed from all these was a common 
frame building, which, judging by the number of 
soldiers gathered around it, was the popular resort of 
the post. This was the canteen. 

Jean’s eyes fell with displeasure upon this. It 
seemed to her like a dark blot upon an otherwise fair 
picture; like a grave mistake in an otherwise well- 
ordered institution. 

A couple of peafowl trailed their plumage over the 
dry brown grass across the way from her, and in the 
slanting rays of the sun they looked like brilliant 
jewels against the rough and dingy background. But 
their harsh notes seemed at variance with their 
beauty, and this, too, made Jean think of the govern- 
ment — a government T^orn more beautiful than any 
other, and reared in its infancy with the care of a 
child, yet presenting to the world, by its administra- 
tion, which is a government’s voice, an inconsistency 
appalling. 

Far from broken axles and torn skirts Jean’s 
thoughts traveled, until she was brought to a sense of 
her surroundings by footsteps, and looking up she saw 
that two soldiers had turned the curve that shut off 
the view of the main road and were coming toward 
her. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAlSr. 


67 


One was a thick-set man of about middle age. He 
had that untidy appearance that marks a slovenly per- 
son, and will appear even *in a soldier in spite of all 
wise and well-directed efforts on the part of a govern- 
ment to keep him neat. His large, light gray, cam- 
paign hat was pulled down well over his eyes and a 
short cob pipe was clinched between his teeth. 

The other man was younger and not as heavy. He 
wore a long coat, open from the neck down, and his 
cap, set on one side of his head, left his bleared and 
bloated face in full view. 

As they came nearer the younger man staggered 
fearfully, and Jean knew that he was intoxicated. 
A feeling, half fear and half loathing, took possession 
of her as these two ill-visaged privates came nearer ; 
but supposing they would pass, she kept her seat./ 

Take-a-hic-your pipe-a-hic-out, in-a-hic-the pres- 
ence of-a-hic-ladies,” the man in the long cloak said. 

The thick-set man took his pipe from his teeth and 
knocked the ashes out against the palm of his hand. 

They were directly in front of Jean now. 

The man in the long cloak made a tottering bow and 
addressed her. 

May a-hic we sit down 

Certainly,^’ said J ean, the blood rushing to her 
face at their boldness, and she hurriedly started to her 
feet. 

Keep-a-hic-your seat and-a-hic-don’t get agitated ; 
we’re-a-hic-gentle-mench.’^ 


68 


THE DAUGHTEK OE A EEPUBLICAH. 


The thick-set man had already seated himself, and 
the other man followed his example, forcing Jean to 
a place by his side. 

Judging the thick-set man to be the least intoxi- 
cated and more decent, she appealed to him for pro- 
tection. The lower part only of his face was visible, 
but she saw that he laughed. 

He don^t mean no harm. Keep still and he’ll go 
on about his business,” he assured her. 

Jean’s face blazed and her heart beat with the force 
of four. 

The tall man emptied his mouth of tobacco juice 
and other fluids and substances, and the sickening 
mixture fell so close to Jean’s foot that h^r boot w^as 
spattered. Then he wiped the dribbles on the back 
of his hand and turned to her. ' 

He bent so close that his hot, foul breath struck her 
with staggering force and his bloated face almost 
touched her cheek. 

You’re-a-hic-a little peach,” he said, with a leer, 
and-a-hic-I’m-a-hic-a going to k-k-kiss you.” 

It was then Jean screamed with all her might, and 
at the same moment a man sprang to her rescue from 
a light buggy that had rounded the bend of the drive 
unobserved. 

The thick-set man suddenly disappeared, but the 
other soldier, either too drunk for rapid movement or 
too muddled to understand the gravity of the situa- 
tion, only rose to his feet and stood leering at J ean 
with disgusting admiration. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


69 


The next instant he was felled to the earth and a 
broad-shouldered man stood over him ready to render 
a second blow if occasion demanded. 

The soldier made an attempt to rise. 

Lie there, you brute/’ the man cried, hotly, and 
the drunken fellow obeyed. 

i^ice-a-hic-way to treat a-hic-man that’s protect- 

ing-a-hic-the-a-hic-honor-a-hic, the honor of ” he 

muttered. 

But the gentleman turned to the woman, and Jean, 
trembling with fear and indignation, with crimson 
cheeks and flashing eyes, looked a second time into 
the face of the gentlemanly liquor dealer. 

I am ^0 glad you came !” she gasped, and held out 
her hand to him. 

As they turned to his buggy the gentleman cast a 
glance back at the prostrate soldier, who had crawled 
behind a bush to sleep until removed to the guard- 
house. 

Such creatures are a disgrace to a civilized gov- 
ernment,” he exclaimed, with ill-concealed wrath. 

Our government is a disgrace to itself,” she 
added. It creates such creatures by a legal process, 
and yonder is the factory,” and she pointed in the di- 
rection of the canteen. 

Canteen beer — canteen beer,” she began again, 
with warmth, but stopped, for she knew that she was 
very much excited and that she might not speak 
wisel3\ 


70 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


If she had opened an argument with the gentleman 
at her side she would have found that he was well 
posted with the old arguments about the canteen be- 
ing an institution to keep the soldiers from the greed 
of evil saloons outside the different posts, but her com- 
panion respected her silence, and did not speak until 
they had passed the great iron gate, when it became 
necessary. 

Now,’^ said he, ‘‘ if you will direct the way, and 
have no objections, it will give me pleasure to see you 
safely home.’^ 

I am Miss Thorn,^’ said Jean, giving him her ad- 
dress. 

Miss Thorn ? Perhaps you are related to Judge 
Thorn r 

I am,’^ replied Jean, smiling. 

That is nice. I have had the pleasure of meet- 
ing the judge, and I do not know a man whom I would 
rather oblige. He is a man all men honor.’^ 

I am his daughter,’^ J ean said, proudly, and I 
assure you my father will feel under lasting obliga- 
tions to you for your kindness to me this afternoon, 
Mr. 

Allison,’’ the gentleman said. 

Allison ?” It was Jean’s turn to look surprised. 

Yes, madam. Allison — Gilbert Allison.” 

Hot of the firm of Allison, Russell & Joy 

The same, madam.” 

She looked at him with mingled wonder and regret. 
The firm name of Allison, Russell & Joy to her mind 


THE DAUGHTEE OF A REPUBLICAN. 


71 


was a synonym for heartless destruction of happiness 
and life. The traffic itself was a great evil generality, 
and as such met condemnation. But in generalities, 
as in mountain ranges, there are specific points that 
tower out distinctively for consideration. Such a 
pinnacle of iniquity this liquor firm had seeiqed to 
Jean to be since her acquaintance with the Crowleys. 

You must be mistaken,’^ she observed at length. 

Gilbert Allison had been amused before. Now he 
laughed. If I am mistaken, life has been a vast 
mistake,’’ he said, for I have supposed myself to be 
this same Allison for over thirty years. But why do 
you think so ?” 

Jean shook her head sadly. 

I do not understand it at all,” she said, gravely. 

I beg your pardon ; but if you will explain to me 
the trouble, perhaps I may be able to enlighten your 
understanding.” 

I do not understand how the same person can be 
so kind and yet so cruel. I do not understand how 
one person can risk his life to save a life — for per- 
haps you saved mine to-day — and yet cause death, and 
you have been the cause of death.” 

Jean spoke slowly and looked grave. 

Mr. Allison felt like laughing again, but politely 

refrained. 

* 

“ I have been accused of a number of things in my 
life,” he said, good-naturedly, “ hut, until to-day, 
murder has been omitted from the list.” 


72 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


There are different modes of procedure — but 
murder is murder after all 

Certainly, but I was not aware that I had been 
connected with a ^procedure.^ ’’ 

Men deal out slow death for gold and trust its 
clinking rattle to still the groans and cryings that 
they cause.’’ Jean spoke reflectively, as if to her- 
self. In savage countries where there is no Chris- 
tianity, where all is black, human life is sometimes 
offered as a sacrifice to gods. Here in Christian 
America an altar is piled high with mother hearts and 
manhood and immortal souls. 

This sacrifice goes on unceasingly; the altar fires 
are never out, and the wail of the little ones and the 
groans of the crushed that go up from this great altar 
only cause this god to laugh. 

This god is made of atoms. EVEEY ATOM IS 
A MAY. 

All this time the Christian men of this Christian 
nation stand around in a great circle, weeping and 
calling on a Christian’s God to hasten the day when 
this other god shall be ground to dust, meantime 
mocking their God by legalizing this monstrous thing 
with their ballots.” 

Mr. Allison had probably never heard a yoitng lady 
talk exactly as this one talked, and yet he enjoyed it, 
and watched the motion of her hand as she used it to 
impress her words. 

I am afraid I do not understand you even yet,” 
he said, when she paused. Do you refer to the 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


73 


tariif or seal fisheries or female suffrage or war or 
what 

I refer to the rum power in America. That is 
the god I mean. The most heartless, depraved mo- 
nopoly on earth, yet men and governments grovel in 
the dust at its feet and cringe like dogs before its 
power.’’ 

Mr. Allison was silent, and she continued, pres- 
ently, turning her face to him. 

It has always seemed to me that the firm of Al- 
lison, Russell & Joy was an important part of this 
great iniquity; partly, I presume, because I happen 
to be acquainted with a family that has been utterly ' 
destroyed by that firm. Tell me truly — ^have they, 
have YOU never heard wails* and cries and bitter 
prayers in the stillness of the night? Have you 
never felt the burden of your awful sin ?” 

Mr. Allison smiled. 

I am sure,” he said, have never heard any 
weeping or wailing that I have been aware of, and 
really I hope to be pardoned, but the burden that you 
speak of has failed to make itself felt.” 

Well, you will hear it some day. Even legal, li- 
censed murder will have its reckoning time. You 
will see a face some day; you will hear a voice that 
will haunt you like the wail of a lost soul.” 

Mr. Allison shrugged his shoulders as if in appre- 
hension. 

I hope not,” he said ; but Miss Thorn, I am 
afraid 'you do not enjoy the society of a liquor 
dealer.” 


74 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


On general principles, no. And. yet I have en- 
joyed yours very much this afternoon, you may be 
sure. I thank you for it, and — I am sorry that you 
are a %an atom’ of the great iniquity.” 

I am sorry that you are sorry,” he answered, and 
then the Thorn homestead rose in view. 

I never was so frightened in my life,” Jean said, 
as they drove in front of the gate. It seems that no 
one is safe from insult and injury in a land where 
liquor is a legalized drink. I never thought that I 
should fall a victim to it.” 

Or be rescued by a liquor dealer.” 

That is true,” and Jean laughed merrily. 

Then she thanked him again, and for half a minute 
he held her small, gloved hand in his, as he assisted 
her from the buggy. 

It is I who am grateful that Fate allowed me to 
be the knight.” Then he lifted his hat gallantly, and 
Jean was gone, but her parting smile stayed with him. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


75 


CHAPTEE VII. 

THE JUDGE MAKES A DISCOVERY. 

After the adventure at the army post Mr. Allison 
called not infrequently at the home of the Thorns^ 
and though, of course, cordially received by both Jean 
and her father, nearly always succeeded in leaving 
Jean thoroughly vexed with him. She made speeches 
and drew statistics for him, enough in strength and 
numbers to convert the traffic itself, and was generally 
rewarded for her pains by an amused look and a good- 
natured laugh. He seemed to her to be. asleep, sound 
asleep ; and try as best she might, it seemed impossible 
to awaken him ; and yet she looked for his visits and 
enjoyed the task she had set herself about more than 
she would have cared to admit. 

The fact was, Mr. Allison had been born asleep as 
far as his relation with the liquor question was con- 
cerned. From his father he inherited his interest in 
the business firm of which he was the junior member, 
and having been brought up in this atmosphere, he 
neither knew nor cared for any other. A man possess- 
ing even half a portion of real integrity is so rarely 
found engaged in the liquor business that this man’s 
character was often spoken of. Whether he was 


76 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


honest may be doubted^ but certain it was^ he was not 
bidding for the church vote by making promises and 
prayers. Yet the cloak of respectability that he wore 
made him ten times more dangerous than one of baser 
worth would have been ; but his cloak, it is well to re- 
member, differed only in color from the cloak worn 
by unnumbered men, to-day posing before a long- 
suffering people as Christian leaders. 

In spite of the indifference of Mr. Allison and the 
vexation of Jean, each felt the subtle power of attrac- 
tion in the other that neither could explain. 

One night when sitting closer than usual to her 
side, he calmly possessed himself of one of her hands. 

You are quite an enigma to me,’’ he said. How 
can you be a bit comfortable in such close proximity 
to a representative of the ungodly traffic ?” 

I cannot,” she answered, pulling at her hand. 

I will go away.” 

Will you ?” and he tightened the pressure of his 
fingers. 

Jean dropped her head on her free hand and was 
very still. Mr. Allison, watching her, presently saw 
a tear-drop on her cheek. 

He put his arm around her, and would have drawn 
her to him, but with a firm, gentle touch, the meaning 
of which was unmistakable, she pushed his arm aside, 
and, rising, stood before him. 

The faint trace of tears still marked her eyes, and 
her voice was a trifle unsteady. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. T7 

“ Mr. Allison, we cannot be even friends! We 
jnst cannot ! You are a ‘ man atom of the great 
iniquity.’ ” 

She crossed the room, and, raising a shade, stood 
looking absently into the moonlight. Gilbert Allison 
leaned forward and seemed trying to obtain the solu- 
tion of some mystery from the outlines of her figure. 

She still stood there when Judge Thorn entered 
from an adjoining room, and while he conversed with 
her liquor-dealer lover, Jean left the room to return 
no more that night. 

But Mr. Allison was not thus to be disposed of. 

A few evenings passed, and he was again an- 
nounced a visitor at the Thorn home, and Jean ap- 
peared really very glad to see him, considering that 
they were never to be friends. After a few moments 
of casual conversation he took from his pocket an 
evening paper, folded so that she could not miss the 
reading, and held it before her eyes. 

From the item thus displayed she learned that Gil- 
bert Allison, late of the firm of Allison, Bussell & 
Joy, had withdrawn his interest in the firm to be 
placed in other investments. 

The conversation that followed the reading of this 
announcement, while confidential, was not a long one, 
but at its close Gilbert Allison knew more of that 
firmness born of a woman’s conviction than he had 
ever dreamed. 


78 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


Judge Thorn looked comfortable in his leather 
chair, his slippered feet on a hassock and a new book 
in his hand. At any rate, Jean thought so, as she 
studied him from between the parted curtains, but 
she was relentless. Stealing softly behind him, she 
pressed her hands over his eyes. The judge started, 
and the young lady laughed merrily. 

Then she tried to steal away his book, but he held 
it. 

Let me put it up, father, I want to talk to you.’’ 

The judge still held the book. 

Then I will say ^please.’ ” 

Is it to be a political conversation ?” he asked, 
gravely. 

Not a breath of politics about it,” she answered. 

Any statistics to be brought in ?” he questioned 
further. 

J ean laughed again. 

Really, father,” she said, I think I may hope to 
win you yet. When a judge, and a Republican at 
that, finds it hard to vindicate his party’s doings, and 
finds statistics overwhelmingly against his party’s 
policy on moral questions, he will look for better 
things in better places. At this period of his po- 
litical transmigration I believe a man is more to be 
pitied for misplaced confidence than blamed for tardy 
understanding. No, father, not a statistic to-night, 
unless you compel me to bring them out in self-de- 
fense.” 

J udge Thorn slowly released his book. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


79 


Now/^ said Jean triumphantly, we are ready 
for a nice long talk, that is, if you feel equal to the 
task of talking. What I have to say will not take 
long. It is about a little interview between Mr. Al- 
lison and — Judge Thorn’s daughter, and if I had been 
less of a ^crank,’ I suppose you would have had an- 
other son-in-law in prospect.” 

Yes ?” questioned the judge. Then I have been 
mistaken when I have thought at times that you cared 
for him.” 

Jean remained silent a few minutes, then looked 
up quickly into her father’s face. 

You are my best, my dearest friend, father. I 
will tell you truly. You have not been mistaken. I 
love Gilbert Allison, and I cannot help it to save my 
life.” 

When Judge Thorn spoke again his voice had 
changed somewhat. He spoke as if his words were 
tjscaping from beneath a weight. 

Better than you do me, Jean ?” 

She did not answer at once; then she caught her 
father’s eye, and smiled as she said : 

You wan^t the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
but the truth ?” 

Go on,” was the judge’s quiet reply. 

Then it is ^yes,’ father.” 

A shadow passed over the face of the judge for an 
instant that carried Jean back to her childhood days, 
when she used to wonder, as she mused, why it was 
that her father always looked so sad. 


80 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


You have all the sweet ways of your mother, 
child, said the old man ; and in you I know the 
traits and intellect that I had hoped to nurture in the 
boy. For years you have been my comrade — ^my best 
loved daughter. I am growing old, now, quite old, 
and' you must leave me.’^ 

As he spoke he ran his fingers through his hair, as 
if in its thinness and fading color he could discern ad- 
vancing years. 

J ean caught the hand that hung over the arm of the 
chair between her two and pressed it to her cheek. 

You make me happy, father!’^ she whispered. 

Do you remember long ago I told you that you 
would some day be glad I was your boy ? And so you 
are. Perhaps it is because I am so like you — I only 
wish I knew I was — or perhaps I have always loved 
you best, and yet I have not loved you enough, 
father.’’ 

Yes, child. Yes, enough to drive away a grief 
and make me happy.” 

Then, remember, father ; remember always and 
forever, that I do not love you any less. If I have 
come to love another more, I tell you truly, I cannot 
help it. It has come to me — just come and — come 
and come ; and I have fought it every step of the way. 
A few times I have pictured to myself such a man as 
I might some time call my husband. He has been 
learned and clean and upright, with an irrepressible 
spirit of patriotism, hindered by no party ties that 
bind to money instead of moral questions ; daunted by 


THE DAtTGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAN. 


81 


no fear, and bound by no memory of a past ; and the^ 
man has come, and he is — a gentlemanly liquor 
dealer. But I will not leave you, father. I have nO’ 
thought other than to stay here.’’ 

This information did not seem to impress the 
judge. 

You say so, Jean. You mean so; but you will 
be married, and a wife’s duties come before a 
daughter’s.” 

Jean laughed again. 

You look almost as disconsolate as Mr. Allison 
did the last time I saw him. Cheer up ! I am not 
going to be married that I know of.” 

No ?” 

No, father.” 

^^ Why, Jean?” 

I see you know that Mr. Allison is a liquor dealer 
no longer, or you would hardly ask.” 

I know. And I know that he sacrifices some- 
thing in getting out of it at this time. He is a clean 
man, and though his name has been connected with 
the interest, that has been all. One could hardly im- 
agine him standing behind a bar.” 

He said something like that in his own defense. 
Let me see — ^he said the national politics was the 
gi’eat mother of all lesser political plays, and that at 
such elections he had cast his vote just as you and 
your preacher have always done. Therefore, as you 
were temperance men, so he was a temperance man. 
How was that for argument ?” 


82 the daughter of a republican. 

Judge Thorn laughed. 

^^Well, I should not wonder if he were as much of 
a temperance man as some other folks, after all.^^ 

^The more shame for the ^other folks/ said Jean, 
a touch of sternness in her voice. 

^^Have it that way if you wish, hut to the original 
question. I am in no hurry for you to marry, but I 
suppose you will some time, and Allison is a square 
man. What he has done in this business move he has 
done not because he has changed his views on some 
matters, but all for the love of a woman, and that 
means much, my girl, these days of fortune hunters 
and deceivers.^^ 

^^All for the love of a woman,^^ Jean repeated 
softly to herself. ^^That is what he said.^^ 

They were both silent a few seconds. 

^^You have not answered my question, Jean.^^ 

^^Ah! I forgot, father. You asked me why I 
could not promise to be the wife of Mr. Allison. I 
will tell you, as I told him, and I think you will un- 
derstand as he did. 

^Tf I ever have a husband, he must do right from 
an honest conviction of right, and because humanity 
and justice and God demand the right, and never for 
the ^ove of a woman,^ although that is a beautiful 
temptation.^^ 

Judge Thorn looked inquiringly at his daughter, 
and she continued: 

^Tle was not prepared for this, I think, but he 
understood what I meant, and said that I asked of 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 33 

him the impossible; that it was impossible for him to 
see the liquor traffic in the light that I do. 

^^But I am sure, father, that the underlying prin- 
ciple of my idea is right, and God makes it possible 
for all men to see the right, if they seek to.^^ 

Jean had risen and stood before her father, her 
face aglow and her eyes shining. 

This mood passed shortly, and she returned to her 
chair. She clasped her hands behind her head and 
began again softly, as if speaking to herself: 

^^And then — then he sat down in a chair by the 
window, with his face turned away. It was very 
still in the room. 

"T went and stood close by his side, but I hardly 
dared to speak, it all seemed so strange somehow. I 
wanted — Oh, you do not know how I longed to throw 
myself into his arms, just to try to wake him; but you 
know ^propriety.^ 

After a time — perhaps an hour, perhaps a min- 
ute — he suddenly rose and kissed me on the forehead. 

^Goodby, dear,^ he said, T think I had better not 
come any more,^ and he left the room without another 
word. 

^^After the door had closed behind him and I heard 
him stepping down the walk, I put both my hands 
over my heart, just so, and held it tight, for it seemed 
that it would bound out and go with him."^^ 

They sat in silence a little while after Jean ceased 
speaking, and then she stepped behind her father’s 
chair and dropped her arms around his neck. 


84 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


No, father, you shall never be left alone as long 
as this big world holds Jean. Lonesomeness is so big 
and dreary!’’ 

She pressed her lips to his forehead and turned 
away. 

Had such a favor been meted out to the disconso- 
late Mr. Allison, he would no doubt have been imme- 
diately transported to a state of unalloyed happiness. 
Not so with the judge. The very act, the very words, 
told him that the woman’s affections had been di- 
vided, and the streak of selfishness that runs through 
all humanity had not been overlooked in his make-up. 

Are you not really ashamed of me, father ? Just 
think of it! Me, Jean Thom, of sound mind and 
adult years, falling in love with a liquor dealer ! It 
is too strange to believe, and yet I believe the situation 
would be perfectly delightful if — if — ^well, if I were 
not ^my father’s boy.’ But I will survive, let it be 
hoped, and if this maddening, sickening, altogether 
unmanageable love one reads of had rushed upon me 
like a whirlwind, it would be the same. The man I 
marry must not be a ^man atom of the great iniquity,’ 
not even to the extent of his vote.” 

And lest she* should mar the impression she hoped 
to leave upon her father, Jean hurried from the room, 
waving her hand to him as she passed through the 
door. 

**** **** 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAISr. 


85 


In her own room she sat down to think. Mechan- 
ically she unbound the coils of red-brown hair that 
crowned her head, and holding the quaintly carved 
silver pins which seemed a part of her identity in her 
hand, she began a march to and fro across the room. 
There was no smile on her face, rather a pained, un- 
natural look that her dearest friend would not have 
recognized. Presently she stopped. 

Raising her hands, the shining hair rippling over 
her shoulders like a garment, she lifted her face 
heavenward. 

My Father!’^ she whispered, brokenly, he is 
a«;leep. Touch his eyes with kindly fingers that the 
scales may drop away. Put the hollow of thy hand 
around his heart and kindle there the love that means 
the brotherhood of man, for I love him — I love him 
Even as she stood, with her face upturned from the 
wealth of flowing hair, the man of her prayer was in 
the toils of fate, seeing a ^^face’^ and hearing a voice 
that touched his ear and clung to his heart, ^fiike the 
wail of a lost soul/^ 



THE DAUGHTER QJ A REPUBLICAN. 


87 


CHAPTEK VIII. 

WHAT FOR.” 

Had Jean Thorn been less interested in the family 
of Damon Crowley she might have thought it impos- 
sible to keep track of them as they moved about. Mr. 
Crowley reformed every time he got drunk, and got 
drunk every time he reformed. At such times he 
made the living place he called home, whether in the 
filthy garret or rickety shanty, a bedlam. At the 
present period of their existence the Crowleys were 
living in a forlorn hovel on the outskirts of the city. 

Mr. Crowley thought himself lucky if he chanced 
to be about when one of Miss Thorn’s visits took place, 
for she paid well for the plain work Mrs. Crowley did, 
and he always came in for a share. The time had 
been when this man would have blushed at the thought 
of asking his wife, or, indeed, any one, for help, but 
that time had gradually gone by as his manhood dis- 
solved itself in drink. Now he could whine and beg 
and, not being successful that way, curse and beat to 
gain his end. He wanted money for whisky worse 
than ever now, and had less, but the burning in his 
stomach grew no less to suit the impoverished condi- 
tion of his purse. 


88 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


The disease caused by the legalized drink traffic 
was eating his life away little by little^ and as the fire 
‘ burned it called for more fuel. 

One night when every little gland and fibre in his 
vrhole being and all the great ulcers in his diseased 
stomach seemed like fierce flames cutting and licking 
and torturing him, half-drunk, he staggered from one 
grog shop to another, begging for something to drink. 

He had hung around the shanty home until he was 
almost sure that Miss Thorn would not come, then 
had started out to try his chances. . He had begged a 
little, had pawned a garment belonging to another for 
a little more, and yet the maddening thirst was not 
quenched. 

It was growing late. He made a circuit of his old 
haunts, but it was useless — ^no money, no drink. For 
his pleading he was mocked. For his curses he was 
struck and put out. He staggered toward home, the 
stinging fire within him quickening his pace. One 
hope remained. Perhaps Miss Thorn had been there 
after he had gone. Perhaps, hidden away in the lit- 
tle box, he might find a few pennies — enough for this 
time. 

The houses that he passed were for the most part 
dark, except where some low place cast its straggling 
light into the night. He hurried on, stumbling now 
and then. Ho time could be more suitable for him. 
He would find the family, what there was left of it, 
asleep. He would sneak in like a cat and find the 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


89 


box — perhaps the pennies. He rubbed his hot hands 
nervously together in anticipation. 

It was not difficult to get into the house, and he 
found it stiU and dark. Cautiously he tiptoed to the 
window and ran his fingers over the casing above it. 
Nothing but dust. Next he tried the hole in the 
chimney. Here his unsteady fingers grasped some- 
thing he thought to be the box, but it proved to be only 
a loose brick. Growing impatient, he went to the 
cupboard and fumbled in the corner. No box. He 
was getting reckless now. Taking a match from his 
pocket he drew it across the wall. It sputtered and 
cast a ray long enough for him to find the lamp, which 
he lit. 

The little boy Johnnie, in a bed close by^ stirred 
slightly, rolled over a couple of times, and sat up in 
bed and opened his eyes. Mr. Crowley, having lost 
all control of himself, was noisily peering into "every 
nook and cranny. As the father moved nearer, the 
boy crept closer to his mother, and, huddling by her 
side, began to cry. It was when he heard the boy’s 
cry that the fire within him licked up the last of his 
manhood and the Devil had full sway. He set the 
lamp down with a bang and sprang toward the bed. 
The boy threw his arms around his mother and gave 
a cry of terror. 

Mamma ! O mamma ! Hold me tight ! Don’t 
let him get me ! O mamma ! mamma ! mamma ! ” 
The mother held the child close, but the man had 
seized him. 


90 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


They struggled for a minute — a madman’s strength 
and a devil’s cunning against a mother’s love — ^un- 
equal struggle ! 

The man — a demon now — ^had the child. 

He cast his eye around the room and picked up a 
knotty piece of wood. The boy pulled frantically 
back toward his mother, trembling and screaming, but 
the die was cast. 

A volley of oaths burst from the drunken fiend’s 
lips. 

Not much this time ! No help now, till I’m done 
with you. Damn you ! Stand up,” and he gave the 
boy a blow that caused him to twist with pain, but he 
steadied his voice to ask : 

What for, • What for ?” But the words 
were lost in screams, for the blows kept falling. 

Mrs. Crowley rushed up and caught his uplifted 
arm. 

You will kill the child! You are mad. Help I 
Somebody help ! ” she cried ; but no help came. 
Drunken rows are a part of our civilization. 

The boy had succeeded in getting away, but the un- 
equal struggle was soon at an end, and Mrs. Crowley 
was struck to the floor by a heavy blow. 

The father dragged the terror-stricken little fellow 
from behind the bed. 

Come ! Damn you ! I’m not done yet I I’ll 
teach you to be scared of your dad and to yell like an 
idiot when I come into my own house,” and the blows 
fell rapidly. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


91 


On the little hands when they were raised to pro- 
tcct the head, on the head when the hands dropped 
down in pain, on the legs when the body twisted in 
agony, on the back when the body bent to shield the 
legs, and the childish voice broke through the screams 
at intervals : 

What for ? Oh, what for 
Mrs. Crowley looked around the room for some- 
thing with which to fight the man. She seized an 
iron frying-pan and struck him with all the force she 
could summon, but the blow was insufficient. 

He loosed the child only long enough to push his 
wife violently to the wall and choke her until she 
gasped and grew dizzy, adding a couple of blows as a 
finishing touch, and after tossing her weapon from 
the window again turned his attention to the child. 

Hot done yet! Ho! Hot done! Take this — 
and this — and this,’^ and heavy blows sounded. 

Oh, papa ! tell me what for, and ITl never, never 
do it any more. Please, papa, what for?’’ and the 
child raised his terror-stricken face to his father’s, but 
the brute struck the little upturned face. 

Ho — ^you won’t do it again when I get done. 
I’m not done yet. Hot done.” 

Mrs. Crowley again sprang upon the madman, 
and, drawing her fingers tightly around his neck, 
threw her whole force into the grasp, but he loosened 
it. Then he kicked her out the door and bolted it 
fast 


92 


THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAH. 


The child had fallen to the floor, but partly ^rose 
as the father returned. 

“ Not done yet — no — ^not done,” and he struck the 
poor, bleeding body many blows. 

The boy sank back on the floor. His screams were 
ended; but as he lay there he still moaned, ‘‘What 
for ?” 

Then the moaning ceased, the eyelids quivered and 
the breath grew faint. 

But even then his father had not exercised enough 
of his “personal liberty.” The imps of hell hissed 
him on. The torturing Are within him leaped higher 
and higher, searing his soul. He bent low over the 
body and beat it still, till the tender bones crushed 
under the blows. Then throwing the knotty stick, 
quivering with his own child’s blood, into a corner, 
with a fearful scream the murderer dashed out into 
the night. 

Then the mother crept back, but it was too late. 
The little life had gone. From somewhere out of the 
mysterious, breezy night, perhaps, the spirit of Mag- 
gie had come, and had taken the soul of her poor 
brother to a city where pain and tears are unknown. 

But another voice had been added to the chorus of 
suffering children as by the million they cry out in 
their pain till the appeal of outraged childhood goes 
thundering and reverberating into the ear of the Al- 
mighty Father, while he writes the “ What for ” of 
their wailing protest in the book of his remembrance 
as the record unto the day of Christian America’s 


THE DAUGHTER OF A EEPUBLICAH. 9^ 

reckoniiigj in letters that burn brighter as the curse 
waxes worse and worse. 

Against the name of the church, too, as she wraps 
her righteous robes around herself and will not, in her 
dignity and purity, set her mighty foot on the neck of 
the curse, while drunkards by unnumbered thousands 
stagger under her colored glass windows to Hell, he 
writes WHAT FOR ? and the letters burn on. 

Against the name of the Christian whose vote 
makes strong the party that legalizes the saloon and 
the drunkard he writes WHAT FOR ? ” 

What man shall stand in the presence of the Holy 
One, when the books are opened, and tell WHAT 
FOR* 


94 


THE DAUGHTER uF A REPUBLICAN. 


CHAPTEPt IX. 

GILBERT ALLISON HEARS A VOICE. 

It was this night that two travelers were journey- 
ing across a bit of suburban country toward their city 
homes. They were out later than they had expected 
to be, perhaps. At any rate, it was somewhere close 
to the hour of midnight and they were approaching 
an old graveyard. 

As they neared the ancient burying ground Mr. Al- 
lison, for he was one of the riders, became less talka- 
tive, and rode closer to his friend, a young man of 
about his own age. 

^^Hist, Sammie! Didn’t you hear something? 
Ah! Xow it has gone again. You were not quick 
enough. Keep your ear open. At the turning of 
the wind it may come again.” 

^^Well, by grabs! Gillie, where will you end?” 
laughed the other. ^Tirst love, now ghosts. Lis- 
tening for spooks because we happen to be passing 
the burying spot of some of our ancestors. Allow me 
to alight and pick a switch for the poor boy to defend 
himself with when the ghosts set upon him.” 

^^Sammie! Sammie! I hear it again! It’s com- 
ing on the breeze. Listen now !” 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. ^5 

Gilbert Allison stopped his horse and leaned eager- 
ly forward. Sammie listened^ but was again too late. 
The dead leaves rustled close by over the sunken 
graves; the tall^ bare trees waved their skeleton arms, 
while the breeze died away to a long, weary sigh and 
was gone. 

^Tt does not come from the cemetery, Sammie, but 
from beyond. Perhaps it will come again. Listen 

The breeze was coming to them again, and they 
drew their horses to a halt. 

^There, Sammie! You did not miss that, did 

your 

They listened a moment longer, but the breeze was 
dying away and with it the cry, whatever it was. 

^^The Dickens! Allison, let us hurry on. This 
is too ghostly a night to tarry. That cry gives me an 
uneasy feeling to the marrow of my bones.’^ 

They quickened their pace, and rode some distance 
in silence. The sky seemed growing darker and the 
wind was rising. A thick clump of trees hard by 
cast a gloomy shadow across the road, and just as 
they passed into this the floating clouds covered the 
face of the moon, and they were in pitchy darkness. 

Suddenly there burst into the black night from 
somewhere in front of them a most unearthly yell. 

Allison^s horse quivered and Sammie^s gave a vio- 
lent lurch. 

^^Heavens, Sammie! What was that?^^ 

^^Blast the moon!'^ ejaculated Sammie. ^Ttide 
close to the side of the road. It was near here.^’ 


96 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


They had passed the clump of trees, but were still 
in the dark. All was still save the tiresome moaning 
of the trees. Then they heard the rapid approach of 
some man or beast, and the next instant, directly at 
their sides, there went out onto the night air a succes- 
sion of blood-curdling yells and barks. 

The horses sprang and danced. 

The moon came out, and in its pale yellow light 
they saw the creature disappearing down the road. 
It was the figure of a man, crouching and springing, 
rather than walking. As he neared the clump of 
trees he made the night shudder with still wilder and 
fiercer screams. Then he disappeared down the 
shadowy road. 

A madman !’’ said Allison. Heavens ! What 
couldn’t he do to a fellow if he had him to himself 
Sammie laughed nervously. 

His boots are full of snakes, if I am not mis- 
taken — but truly a bad fellow. He must have been 
what we heard back by the cemetery.” 

Ho. Hot such a noise as that. That was a wail- 
ing cry. Perhaps — ^he surely cannot have had his 
hand on any human being. Let us hurry on. The 
devil must be hereabouts to-night.” 

The suburbs seemed again to be asleep. The wind 
came and went over the rickety homes, sparsely scat- 
tered, and its moaning was made more dismal by the 
long-drawn out howl of some sleepless cur. 

At rare intervals a light gleamed from a window. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


97 


One window from which a light shone Gilbert Al- 
lison and his friend looked into that night, and some- 
how that window remained always open in the mem- 
ory of each, with a bright light burning behind it- 

It was a dreary little structure that stood close to 
the roadside, quite alone. The window was only a 
square hole, and the feeble light inside flickered as 
the wind blew through. There had been glass there 
once, no doubt, but that glass and many other cheap 
glass windows had gone into a better, richer piece of 
glass, and that hung in a respectable saloon. 

Reflecting the decanters and* red noses — and broken 
hearts ? No ! Ah, no ! Their reflection would have 
injured the trade. They remained where the cheap 
glass had once been, and it was one of these hearts that 
Gilbert Allison, late of the Arm of Allison, Russell & 
Joy, caught a glimpse of as he paused at the open 
window. 

A woman sat on the floor in the middle of the room. 

A woman of petrified misery. She gazed beyond 
the surrounding walls into the happy past, the mourn- 
ful future — into Heaven and Hell, or somewhere. 

Close by her side side lay the still warm body of 
the boy. She placed her hands over his face, and, 
feeling the warmth, opened the tattered, bloody little 
night-dress and pressed her ear over the heart — 
pressed it closer and closer, but the heart was still. 

She did not cry, this woman. Why should she ? 
She knew the child was better off. She lifted a 
corner of her garment and wiped the thick blood from 


98 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


the face, then she pressed her lips to the lips, the 
•cheeks, the forehead, in long, loving, mother kisses. 
She drooped her head close over the childish body, 
and drawing the soft arms around her neck held them 
there. She stroked back the hair, and her hands were 
bloodstained. 

Resting the child’s body tenderly on the hard floor, 
she raised her face of misery and her bloodstained 
hands toward Heaven. 

“ God ! ” she cried. “Look at my hands ! See 
God! Here it is — ^my baby’s blood. Come, God, 
and see my boy. He’s getting stiff — ^but come, God 
— come! See the bruises and the blood! See the 
face — ^the little face, all full of pain and fear — and 
feel the crushed bones, God ! He is getting cold- 
cold— cold ! The boy’s dead !” 

She caught up one of the child’s hands and pressed 
it convulsively. After a moment’s silence she began 
again, suddenly, fiercely: 

“ Is there any God ? Where is he ? Where does 
he stay? Hot with Christians. They have the 
power, if God were with them, to stop the curse. Ho, 
not with them. They do not stop it. Ho. They 
license it, they do. ‘ Woe, woe to him that puts the 
bottle to his neighbor’s lips.’ They do! They do! 
But God must be somewhere. God come out of some- 
where !” 

The wind blew and the light flickered. Allison 
and Sammie, looking in, seemed riveted to the spot. 
It was not a pleasant picture, yet they gazed. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


99 


My husband a murderer ! wailed the woman. 

The boy’s blood on his hands ? Lord God ! I 
never want to see his face again! Have mercy on 
his soul! Perhaps he cannot help it now — he is a 
madman. Love him if you can — I loved him once.” 

Something like a sob sounded in the woman’s voice, 
but she choked it back. After a moment of silence 
she moved a short distance from the little corpse, and, 
raising herself upright on her knees, with her hands 
clasped at arm’s length over her head, she prayed. 

It was not a Christlike prayer — rather the helpless 
cry of a soul tortured, in the grasp of a Christianized 
sin. 

Lord God ! Down deep in Hell — away down — 
down where the fire is hottest, and the black blackest, 
and the smoke thickest, there let the man be bound 
forever who covers the business of Hell with a re- 
spectable covering. There forever let him see my 
boy’s piteous, quivering face ; let him hear the dying 
moan and see the red blood ! I know them, God ! 
You know them, God — ^you know them ! Hear my 
prayer !” 

Another gust of wind came, nearer and stronger, 
and the lamp dickered out. It was quiet. Very 
quiet. So quiet that Allison and Sammie heard the 
sigh that escaped the woman’s lips. It was a heavy 
sigh, filled with tears and utter despair. 

A sigh that went farther than all the sighing winds 
had ever gone. A sigh that was wafted far above to 
the great God who keeps record of the sighs that come 


100 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


up from the hearts of a million drunkards’ wives, and 
who writes on the balance-sheet: Vengeance is 

mine. I will repay.” 

Some people, one of them an officer, entered the 
House from the opposite side, and the two travelers, 
seeing no need for their services, turned away and 
mounted their horses. 

Mr. Allison was somewhat excited. 

Hanging is too good for^ that brute ! ” he said, 
loudly. I believe I could stand by and see him 
roast. Heavens, what a devil ! Poor woman, I wish 
I had not stopped there to-night.” 

Sammie grunted. Thinking of the place she re- 
ferred to as the respectable dealer’s future head- 
quarters ?” he questioned. 

Shut up, will you ! This is no time for joking !” 
The young man complied with the request of his 
polite friend, and thought to himself, hut Mr. Allison 
was no better pleased. He knew that if he had not 
seen it, it would have been. It really was. He was 
deeply stirred. And as he rode on through the night 
he was thinking new and strange thoughts. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


101 


OHAPTEE X. 

THE SIN BURDEN.’’ 

After Gilbert Allison arrived borne from that ride, 
the ghostly night on which he saw the fruits of a sin- 
ful traffic in all its horror, he hastily disrobed and 
turned into bed, hoping to sleep away the unpleasant 
thoughts and pictures that had possession of his mind ; 
but no sooner had sleep overtaken him than a face, 
framed in a halo of red-brown hair, looked down upon 
him from an eminence; a white hand with a phos- 
phorescent glow pointed at him, while a voice kept re- 
peating, to the accompaniment of a childish wail, 
Man — atom of the great iniquity, man — atom of the 
great iniquity.” 

In his dream he did not recognize the face nor 
voice, and yet both seemed strangely familiar to him. 

When daylight came, the face and the white hand 
and the moaning child went away and the face of the 
woman whose misery he had looked upon haunted 
him, and her bitter prayer came to him ih^ snatches. 

The experience was distressing in no small degree 
to the ease-loving man. He could not analyze his 
feelings and was not aware that what one strange Ik- 
tle woman called a ^^sin burden” had fallen with its 


102 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


weight upon him. He was in the act of rubbing his 
eyes before his moral resurrection. 

Damon Crowley was behind the bars for the last 
time. Perhaps he did not know, at any rate he did 
not care. He had reached the beginning of the end. 

From the corners of his cell dark faces leered at 
him ; cruel, sharp claws closed around his limbs and 
icy fingers grasped his throat — ^yet he was not dead. 
Outlines of things he saw became to him living 
creatures of destruction and crouched over him, grin- 
ning in his face and tearing him to bits — ^yet he was 
not dead. Snarling beasts sank their fangs into his 
flesh, a thousand poison insects rushed and swarmed 
upon him, and he felt the virus of their sting bound- 
ing through his body — ^yet he lived. 

Slimy serpents wriggled over him, thrusting their 
forked tongues into his nose and ears, and when he 
grabbed frantically to tear them away they had gone. 

A fire burned within him and he tore his flesh and 
hair, while death like a dark shadow hovered nearer 
and nearer, closing in slowly but surely. The end of 
Damon Crowley was not as a child falls to sleep nor 
as a Christian steps into the great beyond. 

It was a time of screams and groans; of frantic 
clutchings and hard grapplings. Those in neighbor- 
ing cells were glad for once that the walls were thick 
and the bolts secure. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


103 


Gilbert Allison imagined he would feel better when 
he knew that Damon Crowley was securely lodged 
under lock and key; but such was not the case. The 
knowledge of this only seemed to press some real or 
imaginary burden closer to him. Then he imagined 
that he would perhaps feel at peace with the world 
and himself when white-robed justice had had her 
perfect course, and the victim of a nation’s sin had 
been hung by the neck until dead. But even the 
news of the tragic death of the murderer did not prove 
a cure for his nameless and indefinable ill-feeling. 

Then it occurred to him that perhaps his name had 
not been taken from over the doors of the establish- 
ment of which he had so long been a part. Being 
fully resolved to completely sever his connection with 
the business, he looked upon this as a necessary step, 
and not without some small hope that it might help a 
little toward restoring his upset conscience. 

Turning a corner, he raised his eyes. There, in 
the glow of the full sunlight, blazed the richly- 
wrought words, Allison, Bussell & Joy.” They 
looked positively ugly to him and he felt that he had 
been injured by the other members of the firm. En- 
tering the establishment to request that the sign be 
altered he came upon a trio discussing trade items, 
and the old familiar phraseology fell upon his ears 
like jangling voices. 

As he passed out an old customer slapped him 
familiarly on the back and asked after business. 
Hardly had he escaped this one before another 


104 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


grasped his hand and inquired in jovial manner how 
times were. Then a drummer approached him^ and, 
on being informed that he was no longer connected 
with the trade interests, assured him that the trade 
had suffered a loss. As he halted a moment in front 
of a hotel, a half-intoxicated man with a tale of woe, 
because of having been ordered out of the palatial 
sample room of the late liquor dealer, drew some at- 
tention to him and increased his feeling of disquiet 
and irritability. 

Each time he informed his assailant that he had 
severed his connection with the business, but it was 
not until the red-headed proprietor of a groggery drew 
nigh with a grievance, that the last straw had been 
put upon his already overtaxed nerves and conscience. 

With more than the necessary amount of vigor he 
declared himself innocent of the business and drop- 
ped remarks relative to groggeries that would have de- 
lighted the ear of a temperance lecturer. 

After this series of unpleasant encounters Gilbert 
Allison betook himself to the office of his friend. Dr. 
Samuel Thomas, the companion of his memorable 
ride, for advisement. 

Entering the room without previous announce- 
ment, he dropped his hat onto a promiscuous pile of 
books and papers and spread himself on the couch. 
Here, with his hands clasped under his head, he 
studied the pattern of the ceiling paper a few seconds 
before venturing a remark. 

Dr. Sammie, used to moods and fancies, waited. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


105 


Would you do anything for a friend in need, 
Sammie asked the visitor at length, with a strong 
emphasis upon the ^‘anything.’’ 

To he sure. Speak out.’’ 

Then laugh.” 

Laugh?” 

Tes, laugh.” 

Laugh ? What about ?” 

Anything or nothing — ^but laugh. I have not 
heard a suspicion of a laugh in weeks. I have been 
prowling around in a valley of dry bones, and to save 
my soul I cannot find my way out. I thought I had 
just begun the ascent of a slope where smiles are occa- 
sionally seen, when the hope was shattered by the vul- 
gar familiarity of a mob belonging to the trade.” 

Dr. Sammie listened to the rather unusual remarks 
of his friend, and as he recounted the day’s experi- 
ences in his own original way the amused look on 
his face drew itself into definite shape around his 
mouth, and, when Allison had delivered himself of 
something unlisual in the way of a tirade on dive- 
keepers, the climax had been reached, and the listener 
rested his head against the b^ck of his chair and 
laughed in a manner sufficiently hearty to have satis- 
fied the request of his friend. 

Soured on the fraternity, have you ?” he asked. 
Gilbert Allison slowly raised himself to a sitting 
posture and, with an elbow resting on either knee, 
transferred his study from the ceiling pattern to that 
of the carpet. Tie did not answer the question. 


106 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 

Crowley died/’ he at length observed. 

Yes — and I should think yon would be the man 
to be glad. I imagine the after feeling must be any- 
thing but pleasant when one has for years helped fit a 
fellow creature for the gallows.” 

Gilbert Allison frowned between his hands and 
spoke sharply. 

It is a legal business/’ he said. 

Legal ? Yes, legal — ^but you have sense enough 
to know that if it is legal for you to sell, it must be 
legal for some other fellow to buy ; and if some other 
fellow spends his money for liquor he had the right 
to drink it, and you can hardly be unreasonable 
enough to hold a man responsible for what he 
does when the lining has been eaten out of his stomach 
and his brain soaked with alcohol. Such a man is a 
legal murderer, and the custom that breeds him 
should take care of the finished production. 

Mind you, I am not giving a temperance lecture ; 
that is out of my line. But it has always seemed to 
me to be a rotten sort of justice that hangs a man for 
doing what the government gives him a license to do.” 
Mr. Allison looked up suddenly. 

Do you suppose, Sammie, that Deacon Brown 
knows the Traffic as it is — as we have seen it ?” 

His church machinery grinds out resolutions an- 
nually of such a warlike nature that I am inclined to 
believe he does,” said the doctor grimly. 

He has been in every political caucus that I have, 
for the last five years and has voted as I have from 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


107 


constable to President. I have voted for the interests 
of the Trade. What has he been voting for ? ’’ de- 
manded Allison. 

I’ll give it up/’' said Sammie, dusting the ashes 
from the end of his cigar ; but the Lord have mercy 
on his brains if he thinks it has been for ^temperance 
and morality.’ ” 

Gilbert Allison arose and began a measured tread 
up and down the room. 

Laugh some more, Sammie ! I have not yet re- 
covered my normal condition. I had as soon be dead 
as morbid. Laugh. Perhaps it will prove infec- 
tious.” 

I prefer to diagnose my case before applying a 
remedy,” said the doctor. Tell me your symptoms. 
What ails you ?” 

I am in a dilemma, Sammie — a dilemma. Tell 
me — will it be necessary for me to wear a staring 
placard on my back the rest of my mortal days in 
order that people may know I have everlastingly sev- 
ered my connection with the liquor business ?” 

Dr. Sammie was obliging enough to favor his guest 
with another hearty laugh. Then he blew two clouds 
of smoke over his head and watched it curl itself away 
around the chandelier, for notwithstanding the fact 
that he knew, or should have known, the effects of 
nicotine on the human system, this aspiring young 
member of the medical profession wasted money and 
nerve force in his slavery to a habit. 


108 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


I tell you, my friend/’ he said, with an air of con- 
fidence, there are a set of people in the world — mind 
you, I do not say that they are wise — who would tell 
you that by casting a single vote in a certain way you 
would stamp yourself as the vile opponent of the 
Trade’s interests ^ forevermore, amen ! ’ ” 

Gilbert Allison paused in his walk and looked into 
his friend’s face a second. A sigh of relief escaped 
his lips, and immediately he found himself in the 
midst of a ringing laugh peculiar to one who has 
broken through the meshes of a dilemma and finds 
himself free. 

The best speech of your life, Sammie ! Thank 
you !” and hastily donning his hat he left the room 
without further comment. 

Dr. Sammie smiled when the door closed behind 
his friend. He had an idea whither his way tended. 


THE DAUGHTEK OF A KEPUBLICAN. 


100 


CHAPTEE XL 

AlSr AWAKENING. 

Judge Thorn sat looking over the evening paper. 

Lost in her own thoughts, Jean sat in the shadow 
of a palm idly thrumming a guitar, the soft pliant 
strains corresponding well with the expression of her 
face. 

A sudden exclamation from her father caused her 
to look up. 

His profile alone was visible to her, but there is an 
expression in outlines when one understands the sub- 
ject, and she knew that something of an unusually 
puzzling or distressing nature engaged him. 

Eagerly watching, she played on softly. 

Presently the judge crushed the paper into a ball 
and with another exclamation of disgust threw it 
across the room where it rolled behind a scrap basket 
under a desk. At sight of so uncommon a procedure 
Jean went to her father’s side. 

What news, father mine ? What news ? ” she 
asked. 

Judge Thorn pointed in the direction of the wad- 
ded paper. 


23^0 daughtp:r op a republican. 

^^Jean/^ said he, solemnly, ^^you remember how 
proudly I boasted to you when Congress prohibited 
that blackest disgrace of our army, the liquor-selling 
canteen. You know how deeply I felt the shame and 
disgrace upon the whole legal profession when an of- 
ficer of the cabinet perpetrated the outrage that 
thwarted the will of the sovereign people. Jean, 
girl, in a long life of close contact with the nation’s 
politics I have never met anything that has so deeply 
tried my loyalty to the party in which I have helped 
to work out the political problems of almost half a 
century as did that act that, as a life-long student of 
law, I recognized as a fraud. 

^^ut I have bolstered my shattered faith in the 
party with my absolute confidence in the President. 
I have refused to believe — to this very hour I have 
refused to believe that the man whose magnificent 
career I have watched with such interest and of whose 
stainless honor I have been so proud, would consent 
to be a party to such an act of anarchy. I have in- 
sisted, as you well know, stoutly holding my position 
though the long delay has made me sick at heart, 
that when the long routine of official red tape had at 
length unrolled itself and the case should finally come 
to the President, justice would be done and the na- 
tion’s honor vindicated. 

^^Now, look there!” 

And with hands that trembled with suppressed 
anger the old jurist unfolded the crumpled paper, 
which Jean had recovered, and pointed out the tele- 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 

graphic report that told how another high official of 
the President's official family had disgraced himself, 
his profession and the administration by the formal 
declaration that he accepted the historic Griggs in- 
famy as a correct interpretation of law. 

^^Jean, my child, spare me. Say nothing now, 
child. I can not bear it. The faith of a lifetime is 
shattered. On that page I read, plainly as if it were 
printed there, that the President is a party to the in- 
famy. The party of my lifelong loyalty stands com- 
mitted by the act of its chosen leaders to the foulest 
anarchy that ever disgraced a civilized people. Had 
I no thoiight for temperance, as a citizen and as a law- 
yer, I could not otherwise than, see in this the fore- 
runner of the gravest national disaster.^^ 

The young woman listened with an expression in 
which deepest scorn for the treason done was mingled 
with tender pity for the stricken man at her side. 
Sharp, cutting words crowded to her lips for a final 
argument, but her love for her father checked them. 

Just then, in the silence, a step was heard approach- 
ing the house. In a twinkling the canteen outrage 
slipped from the mind of the girl, for the step was 
one whose echo had made indelible prints on her heart 
and whose owner she had been many times heartsick 
to see. 

She hardly had time to wonder what brought him 
at an hour long past the usual time for making calls 
before he was with them. 


112 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


When he had been informed by the judge of the 
latest chapter in the history of the canteen outrage, 
Mr. Allison laughed heartily. 

What have you been voting for the last ten years, 
Judge,’’ he asked. 

]STot for the canteen,” the older man answered 
warmly. 

I have, and for every other measure conducive to 
the best interests of the trade — and we have voted the 
same ticket to a dot.” 

Finding the judge rather indisposed to talk just 
then the young man turned to his hostess. 

I am on a quest,” he said. Tell me of some one 
possessed of enough knowledge of human nature to 
recommend a course that will square me with an un- 
ruly conscience and — a woman.” 

My father is a legal light, ask him. He needs 
diversion now, I think,” and Jean smiled at sight of 
his perplexed face. 

His specialty has not been ^man atoms of a great 
iniquity,’ ” said Allison with a smile that hardly con- 
cealed his anxiety! Tell me, what would you do if 
you had been a %an-atom,’ had grown disgusted with 
the mother mass and wished to completely sever your 
connection with it before God and man ?” 

“ You mean if I were a man ? Well, first I would 
ask the Lord to forgive me for ever having been a 
%an-atom.’ ” 

I have been duly penitent,” assented the ques- 
tioner. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 113 

Then I would buy some paper — a quantity of it 
■ — and I would write yards and yards of resolutions 
stating that ^ it can never be legalized without sin.’ ” 
And then 

Then I should pray a whole lot — and pursue the 
even tenor of my way ; and if my conscience should 
assert itself in the face of all this^ I should think it 
too cranky a conscience to be humored.” 

What about the woman ?” 

Jean smiled. 

Woman ? Women/’ she said, have notions. 
To save their lives they cannot see the use in wasting 
paper and prayers. They would DO something. 
Women — some women — believe in standing right 
with God and conscience though the heavens fall.” 
So do some men,” said Allison, gravely. 

Jean started slightly. The tone of his voice, the 
look of his eye, conveyed to her the knowledge that 
somewhere, somehow, since she had seen him last he 
had been awakened. 

Involuntarily she clasped her "hands and in the 
passing glance she gave him Gilbert Allison caught a 
glimpse of the heaven that orthodox people say follows 
the resurrection of the just. 

Judge Thorn roused himself from the spell that 
had been cast over him by the news in the crumpled 
paper. 

A second time he took it in his hands and slowly, 
solemnly crushed it. 


114 THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAN. 

“ The rank and file, the men whose honesty and 
virtue have made the party great,” he said, “ have 
been defrauded, outraged. My support of the ad- 
ministration and of the party of my political life is 
forever ended unless it reclaim the right to a decent 
man’s support.” 

While her father talked, Jean, lest in the first mo- 
ments of her delightful discovery she should clap her 
hands or cry or dance or in some other unconventional 
way outrage grave decorum, returned to her seat and 
her guitar. 

The fringed palm threw long jagged shadows over 
her dress and stretched away to meet the firelight 
dancing on the hearth-rug. 

The mingled tones of the two voices reached her 
ear, but she heard them indistinctly. To the soft 
strains that answered the strokes of her fingers, she 
kept repeating over and over to herself^ “ He is 
awake, he is awake;” 

Presently she heard her father leave the room. 

Then her heart began to whirl and beat in a way 
unknown to her before. She caught the faint chime 
of a distant steeple bell and the notes of the low music 
died away to a plaintive breathing as she counted the 
strokes, for she knew the fateful hour of her life was 
at hand. 

Just as the last stroke quivered out onto the new 
hour, he came. He sat down beside her and putting 
aside the guitar, drew her close to him. 


THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 


115 


You are awake/^ she said softly, as if half afraid 
of breaking some magic spell. Tell me about it.^^ 
He dropped his hand over one of hers and described 
the tragedy of the victims of the ^^great iniquity’^ that 
he had seen on that eventful night. 

When he spoke of the murdered child he felt her 
hand clinch in his and when he told of the prayer con- 
signing the ^^respectable’’ dealer to the place prepared 
for Satan and his earthly henchmen, involuntarily she 
would have drawn away from him, but his arm bound 
her like a band of steel. 

A tortured face — a bitter prayer — a bloody trag- 
edy — ugly instruments; but in the hands of the Di- 
vinity that smooths out man’s rough hewing they have 
cut away the last outline of a ^man-atom.’ Are you 
glad? Has fate fashioned me to the satisfaction of 
one peerless, priceless woman ? ” 

For one moment Jean hesitated. Then 

But what business is that of ours ? Our story has 
been of the daughter of a Republican, and the 
young woman whose face is hidden upon the shoulder 
of Gilbert Allison, once rum-seller, now by God’s grace 
Prohibitionist, is no longer the daughter of a Repub- 
lican; for Judge Thorn’s resolution, slow formed, is 
as unbreakable as nature’s laws. 


THE END. 


Temperance 


Progress In The 19th Century 


A NEW HISTORY OF THE TEM- 
PERANCE REFORM IN AMERICA 


By JOHN G. WOOLLEY and 

WILLIAM E. JOHNSON 


Coi-nplete 1 


lriter*estiris I 


This is the most recent historical book relating to the Temperance 
Reform. It reviews in detail the progress of the Great Reform in 
America, giving an account of all Temperance and Prohibition organiza- 
tions, their leaders and work. It gives#the facts concerning the methods 
which have been followed in the attempt to “regulate” the drink traffic. 
It speaks of the relation of Temperance to Medicine, Industry, Military' 
Affairs, and to the Church. 


SOME OF THE TOPICS : 


Here are some of tlie topics treated, an entire chapter being given to each. 


Alcohol Among The Ancients 
The Development of The Public House 
Drink in the North American Colonies 
Early Temperance Agitation in the United 
States 

Early Moral Suasion Campaigns 
Fraternal Temperance Societies 
The Ante-Bellum Prohibition Movement 
Post-Bellum State Campaigns 
High License 

The W. C. T. U. and Other Temperance 
Societies 


The Prohibition Party 
Temperance in Canada 
Temperance in Europe 
Temperance in Australia 
The Gothenberg System ' 

The Dispensary System 
Temperance and Medicine 
Temperance and Life Insurance ] 
Temperance and Industry ' 

Temperance in Military Affairs 
Civilization as the Apostle of Vice 
Temperance and Christian Churches 


Every page is interesting. Every statement reliable. A complete 
index places all the contents at your immediate disposal. 


533 Pages. Splendidly Ill\istrated, 

Bound in Cloth. Price, $2.00 

Address 

THE NEW VOICE COMPANY; 

HYDE PARK, CHICAGO 




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